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BUD: 


A STORY OF THE CHURCH OF 
THE NEW HUMANITY 


WILLIAM KENNEDY MARSHALL 




CINCINNATI: JENNINGS & PYE 
NEW YORK: EATON & MAINS 


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Thf*u#rary of 

CONGRESS, 
Two Copies H eceived 

OEC. 16 1901 

COP^WQHT ENTRY 

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CLASS CL KXc. NO. 

£ / f r r 

COPY B. 


COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY 
JENNINGS & PYE. 


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FOREWORD. 


With most appropriate fidelity, Dr. Marshall 
sends forth this message as the proper application 
of the Christian law 7 to society. He stands in 
the role of a prophet. It is possible for society 
to dispense with poets and still live; Plato did 
in his “Ideal Republic.” Development in the 
sciences might stop, and the old world fare toler- 
ably well. Sculpture and painting might cease 
to be, and still the earth move forward. But 
prophets we must have ; for their functions are 
to lift society out of the ruts of stagnation, con- 
ventionalism, and formalities. 

The message of this volume is the song of the 
“Hew Humanity,” couched in romance. On the 
wings of Love (what a sweet idolatry!) is borne 
Truth, enamored of Fidelity, to a sublime con- 
viction. Herein is not the toying of fancy, nor 
the heat of imagination; but, with an ingenious 
touch, the author has joined the hands of the 
Ideal and the Real. He bears not so much a keen 
sword, as a simple plowshare in the field of the 
common world, and moves breast forward. The 
note of truth is not born of a woman’s smile, nor of 
3 


FOREWORD. 


the woes of frowning fortune, but it leaps forward 
from the conditions and experiences of every-day 
life. Social extremes meet. The oak of the one 
is as hollow as the hemlock of the other. 

Dr. Goodfellow is sketched in the strength of 
a giant and in the tenderness of a child. He 
is oak and lily. He moves in the presence of 
sublime convictions; yet when he yields, it is not 
the submission of a weakling, but the devotion 
of a splendid will. He is the forerunner of the 
new era. His romance with Josephine McCord 
is conducted on the mountain-plane. It strength- 
ens daily. It is a communion of hopes and as- 
pirations, the fervent breathings of the secret 
of the soul. It is a sweet interchange of the 
treasures of love, mined in the depths of the 
human heart. It is the voice of the uncommon 
common. Love is not rudely pushed to the front. 
It is free from the blighting touch of unseemli- 
ness that maketh concessions, yet it is as familiar 
as it is sweet, and as sweet as it is familiar. 

“Bud” — a jewel in a rough casket ! Help us, 
Lord, to rub our eyes, that we may see all such — 
to rummage among the wreckage of life, and 
gather them in. Crowned sovereignties there 
are; we pass them every day, like ships in the 
night, and we keep playing owls. May the story 
of “Bud” help us to move about in the spirit of 
homage, and ever stoop in grateful regard to 
4 


FOREWORD. 


reclaim God’s own ! The sweet love-tale of “Bud” 
and Jennie Patterson is the natural evolution of 
two lives beautifully blended. They journey 
along in the heart’s own country, keeping tender 
step to its own sweet chord. Love, the king of 
words, is engraved on both hearts, and its “height, 
length, and breadth are equal.” They are Love’s 
budding beauties. Jennie’s mother gives mild re- 
bukes, and turns again and again to cut the roots 
of the perplexing evil; but the extract is poured 
into the ear of innocence, in love. The opposition 
grinds, but without remedy ; Love weeps not. She 
moves on to her own world, in which lives and 
destinies are united, where criticisms are strangers 
to the tongue, and Love the dweller of the heart. 

“The Unknown Man” is under the dominant 
sway of the Holy Bible. Every desire and im- 
pulse are hallowed by the Divine Word. His 
questions and answers are the kindled light of 
this golden candlestick. He always applies the 
truth with level and impartial sweep against every 
form of sin, and prophesies not smooth things. 
He is so dreadfully sane and so horribly unanswer- 
able that he attracts and holds us to the end. 

The “McCords,” with a devotion that bleeds 
with earnestness, roll the stone away from the 
sepulcher of human misery. They start slaves 
on the way to character. They break in pieces 
the yoke of bondage bv their consecrated wealth. 


FOREWORD. 


Their prayers no longer contaminate the air in 
which they are breathed; they join the ranks of 
the new chivalry which is destined to make the 
“Golden Rule” co-extensive with man. 

In life’s brief pilgrimage there is no memorial 
erected more enduring than a good book. It 
speaks not, it chides not, it scolds not, yet there 
proceeds from its mute pages an energy which 
lifts the world nearer God. It feeds the appe- 
tite for truth, and helps ns to live in the higher 
lobes of our being; thus we bid this book God- 
speed. These pages are just so many glances at 
the life and character of one of the best known 
ministers of the Northwest. Tor years he has 
stood before the public as preacher and lecturer. 
He knows the social life of the people of every 
stratum, and from these he appeals to the ideal. 
His observations, long discipline, finished scholar- 
ship, — these, combined, make him indeed and in 
truth a prophet and a seer. He unveils to see. 
He calls to the future, and claims it for the 
Christ-Samaritan. We will not keep you waiting 
longer. We open the door, and bid you enter. 

James S. Montgomery. 

Minneapolis, October 17, 1901. 


6 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

I. A Revolutionary Proposition, - - - 11 

II. A Revelation of Duty to Mrs. McCord, - 19 

III. Mrs. McCord Invites Twelve Newsboys to 

Dinner at Her Own Residence, - -25 

IV. The Dinner and Its Effect, 33 

Y. Mrs. McCord and Mrs. Patterson Cross 

Swords, - - - - - -44 

YI. Mrs. McCord Visits the Mothers of the 

Newsboys, ------ 51 

VII. Mrs. McCord Seeks Counsel from Her 

Pastor, -------59 

VIII. Death and Burial of Jammie McFadden, 

the Lame Newsboy, - 63 

IX. Sensation in the Church of the Upper 
Strata — Appearance of an Unknown 
Man, 72 

X. Mrs. McCord is Discussed in the Ladies’ 

Club, ------- 82 

XI. The Unknown Man Unexpectedly Visits the 

Diamond Saloon, ----- 91 

XII. Mrs. McCord Gives a Dinner to the Mothers 

of the Twelve Newsboys, - - 99 

7 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


XIII. Great Fire in the City op Chattahoo- 

CHE, ------- 104 

XIV. Jennie Patterson Lost in the Great 

Fire, ------- 112 

XV. The Unknown Man Appears in the 
Preachers’ Meeting of Chatta- 
hooche, ------ 118 

XVI. First Meeting at Oak Hall, in the 

“Wicked Ward,” and Its Effect, - 126 

XVII. Interview Between Father Martini and 

Mrs. McCord, ----- 137 

XVIII. Jennie Patterson Found, Rescued, and 

Returned Home — Her Reception, - 145 

XIX. Mrs. McCord Leases and Renovates a 

Tenement Block, - 153 

XX. Interview of the Unknown Man with a 

Socialist, ------ 159 

XXI. A Plot to Kill the Unknown Man De- 
feated, ------ 167 

XXII. Church of the Upper Strata Changes 

Its Name, 173 

XXIII. A Cosmopolitan Experience-Meeting at 

Oak Hall, ------ 179 

XXIV. Dedication of the “Church of the New 
Humanity” — Unsuccessful Attempt 
of a Reporter to Interview the Un- 
known Man, 188 

XXV. Mr. Beverly McCord Consults Dr. Good- 
fellow with Reference to the 
Erection of a Great Temple in the 
“Wicked Ward.” - 195 

8 


CONTENTS. 


PAGE 


XXYI. Mrs. Patterson Gives a Dinner to Bud 

and His Mother, ----- 205 

XXVII. Interesting Discussion on Love between 
Dr. Goodfellow and Miss Josephine 
McCord, ------ 213 

XXVIII. How a Socialist Club was Disbanded, 225 

XXIX. Miss Josephine Accompanies Her 
Mother to the Oak Hall Meet- 
ing — The Effect upon Her, - - 246 

XXX. Josiah Worthington Visits Mrs. Mc- 
Cord, 252 

XXXI. Last Interview Between Bud and Jennie 

before Leaving for School, - - 26 L 

XXXII. Bud and Jennie at School, - - - 267 

XXXIII. An Understanding is Established be- 
tween Dr. Goodfellow and Miss 
Josephine McCord — A Trip Abroad, - 275 

XXXIV. Bud’s Masterly Address in Dr. Good- 

fellow’s Church, - 281 

XXXV. Completion and Dedication of the 

“People’s Temple,” - 290 

XXXVI. Death of the Unknown Man — Mystery 
of His Life Explained — Bud Be- 
comes Superintendent of the “ Peo- 
ple’s Temple,” and, with His Young 
Bride, Occupies the Superintendent’s 
New House, ----- 301 


9 





Bud: A Story of the Church of 
the New Humanity. 


i. 

A REVOLUTIONARY PROPOSITION. 

The evening was somewhat somber, with now 
and then a fugitive glimmering of retreating sun- 
rays reflected on the approaching chariots of night 
as they mounted above the horizon. The quiet 
of the hour was undisturbed by voice of thunder 
or shaft of lightning, by noise of wave or wind, 
or din of traffic on the street. It was like a 
mellow vision of beauty and prophecy, with fore- 
gleams of the new, eternal day not measured by 
rising and setting suns, and suggestive of super- 
nal things, as if a “still small voice” were calling 
to communion with invisible persons and realities. 
It was a fitting time for the regular week-night 
11 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


prayer-meeting of the Church of the Upper Strata 
in the city of Chattahooche. This Church was 
composed chiefly of so-called society people. They 
were of that highly-respectable and moral kind 
whose spirituality was not prominent. While 
their contributions for foreign missions were 
liberal, their interest in the poor and neglected 
of the city was not appreciable. The customs 
and functions of higher social life received much 
attention. Indeed, the Church of the Upper 
Strata set the pace of “society” among its kind, 
and determined the rules that prevailed in its 
kingdom. Two things characterized most of its 
members : They did not believe in what they styled 
“an overcharge of personal piety.” Indeed, if 
there was such a thing as experimental religion, 
they claimed it was located in the subconscious- 
ness, never appearing on the surface save in 
dreams and visions. They also held that the word 
“brother” was a figurative term, designed to add 
rhetorical intensity to an idealistic relation that 
was unattainable in this life, and that its obliga- 
tion was confined to those of their own class and 
kind. 

Dr. J. S. Goodfellow, its pastor, was an elo- 
12 


A REVOLUTIONARY PROPOSITION. 


quent preacher, holding a high place in the es- 
teem of his people. He was a young man of 
sterling birth, having in his blood that happy com- 
mingling of Irish, Scotch, and English that often 
produces loftiest character, thoroughly Anglo- 
Americanized by two generations of ancestral 
residency in the Hew World. He was of medium 
height and solidly built, with a broad rather than 
high forehead, crowned with a slightly bushy 
covering of rich black hair; large, penetrating 
gray eyes, arched with brows in harmony with 
head and hair, and edged with lashes that softened 
the brilliance of their ever-speaking tenderness, 
gentle even as a woman’s; a nose, mouth, and 
chin suggestive of manly strength and firmness, 
tempered by the patience of love, — in a word, 
his was a wonderful face, radiant with thought, 
beaming with intelligent sympathy and loving 
hope for all conditions, tolerant of all creeds and 
criticisms, but firm in his own convictions and 
cheerfully resolute in their announcement and de- 
fense ; a face that invited instant confidence when 
you first met its divinely human gaze, and made 
one feel that here was a great soul, into which 
one could pour the aches of a tossed and stren- 
13 


i 

r 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


uous life with no fear of betrayal and no feeling 
of obtrusion. The personnel of such a man could 
not be otherwise than lovingly majestic. When 
rising to speak, he had prompt and general at- 
tention. He was not only popular because of 
his eloquence, learning, and masterful personality, 
but he had that added element of attraction which 
always goes with a clergyman that is young and 
unmarried. Whittier must have had such a char- 
acter in his mind when he wrote: 

“ His face with lines of firmness wrought, 

He wears the look of a man unbought, 

Who swears to his hurt and changes not ; 

Yet, touched and softened nevertheless 
With the grace of Christian gentleness, 

The face that a child would climb to kiss ! 

True and tender and brave and just, 

That man might honor and woman trust.” 

His eminent success in his first pastorate, at 
Gordonsville, drew the attention of several city 
Churches toward him, among them the Church 
of the Upper Strata, which finally secured him. 
Like many other shepherds, he was not satisfied 
with the low spiritual temperature of his flock, 
and their want of concern for the lower strata 
of society. 


14 


.4 REVOLUTIONARY PROPOSITION. 


He was the subject of no little conflict be- 
tween conscience and expediency. He had more 
than once indicated to his Church that there was 
about it too much of the “club” atmosphere. 
Indeed, he had gone even so far at one time as 
to say that what his “dear people” needed was 
to get outside of themselves, and see something 
of those other conditions of life which had no rep- 
resentation in the Church of the Upper Strata. 
When some of his chief members kindly reminded 

him that theirs was not the Church of the lower 

* 

strata, it was several Sabbaths before he had 
sufficiently apologized for “unguarded remarks 
under the inspiration of a hot enthusiasm.” 

At the prayer-meeting referred to, the pastor 
read for the Scripture lesson a part of the four- 
teenth chapter of St. Luke’s Gospel, in which are 
these words: “Then said he also to him that bade 
him, When thou makest a dinner or a supper, 
call not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy 
kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbors, lest they also 
bid thee again, and a recompense be made thee. 
But when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the 
maimed, the lame, the blind; and thou shalt be 
blessed; for they can not recompense thee; for 
15 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of 
the just.” 

Among other things, by way of exposition and 
application, Dr. Goodf ellow said : “Literally to fol- 
low this command of the Master would be to 
reverse the prevalent order of social and Church 
life. The general custom now is to do the very 
thing that the Master forbids ; that is, to bid our 
friends, our brethren, our kinsmen, and our rich 
neighbors to the hospitality of our festive boards. 
If The poor, the maimed, the lame, and the blind’ 
are ever invited, it is not to our homes, but to 
some public hall, where the charity of some so- 
ciety or individual may find opportunity for pub- 
lic expression and receive due reportorial notice 
in the press. But is it not evident that the very 
core of the Divine order is overlooked, and the 
very blessing intended is lost, by such procedure ? 
Contact with the lower classes of society is what 
the Master would have, not by proxy, but in per- 
son. Most people issue invitations to ‘supper’ or 
‘dinner’ to those only who are in circumstances 
to return the courtesy, and will feel the obligation 
to do so. Thus social life is constructed and 
operated. If the Master’s words were faithfully 
16 


A REVOLUTIONARY PROPOSITION. 


followed, it would work an entire revolution in 
social and religious life. Nearly nineteen hun- 
dred years have come and gone since the Christ 
thus spoke, and yet how very few have found 
that this is one of the ways of learning how much 
‘more blessed it is to give than to receive/ If 
the Master should come to this city to-night, I 
fear he would not visit our prayer-meeting, or 
perhaps any other in the churches. He would 
doubtless go first to ‘the poor, the maimed, the 
lame, and the blind/ whom we have neglected. 
He would probably much prefer to dine with them 
than at our richly spread tables. O, members of 
the Church of the Upper Strata, Wake up! 
Arouse! Let some one try the Master’s plan. 
Make a dinner, and invite only ‘the poor, the 
maimed, the lame, and the blind/ who can not 
invite you again, and verily ‘thou shalt be recom- 
pensed at the resurrection of the just.’ Yea, even 
now you will find that this is the most blessed 
way to live. Who will try it? Is not the ex- 
periment worth the making? Is not the Master 
calling some one here to-night to this very work, 
right in this great city, where so much poverty, 
want, and misery prevail ? Who will venture into 
2 17 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


this unexplored field, in His' name and for His 
sake ? Try it, and report results to your pastor.” 

All noted the marked solemnity and earnest- 
ness of the pastor while he uttered these unusual 
words. All felt and admitted that, theoretically 
at least, he was on the right side of the question, 
and that the Master’s command justified his 
pointed application of the lesson. But each said 
that such a course would revolutionize, if not 
quite annihilate, the Church of the Upper Strata, 
and that while the theory was beautiful, humane, 
and even Christlike, it was utterly impracticable 
under present conditions. So this very respectable 
prayer-meeting was dismissed, and its members 
returned to their homes, several to prepare for 
appointed social functions the very opposite of 
that recommended by their pastor. One, how- 
ever, went home with a different purpose. 


18 


n. 


A REVELATION OF DUTY. 

Mrs. Beverly McCord was not in the habit 
of attending prayer-meeting, but it happened this 
evening that she was present. She was not only 
a member of the Church of the Upper Strata, 
but she was also a prominent factor among the 
"Four Hundred/ 7 By nature and education she 
ivas a leader among women. She had traveled 
extensively at home and abroad, and could fill 
any social position with artful grace. Her hus- 
band was at the head of a large manufacturing 
concern, with a net income of a quarter of a 
million annually, rapidly increasing every year. 
Financially, therefore, Mrs. McCord could com- 
mand anything she desired, and the more so be- 
cause her husband was in perfect accord with 
her in all her plans and ambitions. It was not 
unusual for her to give a social function to four 
hundred persons at one time, the cost of which 
exceeded a thousand dollars. In this regard she 
was the envy of not a few of her own station. 

19 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


One large reception would place at least four hun- 
dred persons under obligation to “recompense” 
her in return, all of whom would have been dis- 
appointed, if not offended, by her failure to re- 
spond. Mr. and Mrs. McCord were members in 
good standing in the Church of the Upper Strata, 
albeit this relation did not limit or embarrass 
them in any of their social ambitions or worldly 
recreations. It need hardly be said that they were 
among the most liberal in the support of their 
pastor and all Church enterprises that required 
money. They were also usually present at the 
public service every Sabbath morning, and no 
family could more cordially receive and entertain 
Dr. Goodfellow. 

The pastor’s address in the prayer-meeting 
greatly impressed Mrs. McCord. Not a word es- 
caped her ear, while her quick, penetrating eye 
caught every move, gesture, and expression of 
the speaker. The subject opened to her vision 
a new world. She began to feel that, as to actual 
work for the Master, and after his manner, her 
life had been a failure. While the pastor spoke, 
she saw the crowds of “poor, and maimed, and 
lame, and blind,” gathering about the Man of 
20 


A REVELATION OF DUTY. 


Nazareth, receiving his blessing and presenting 
their homage. A sense of her responsibility for 
a better use of her talents, social, intellectual, and 
financial, stole irresistibly upon her ; so that when 
Dr. Goodfellow inquired, “Is not the experiment 
worth the making ? is not the Master calling some 
one here to-night to this very work?” she meant 
to say silently to herself, “Yes;” but she spoke 
it with an emphasis that was almost startling, 
which attracted the attention of those nearest to 
her. And when the address closed with the recom- 
mendation, “Try it, and report results to me,” 
she quietly but firmly said, “By His strength and 
in His name I will.” 

That night Mrs. McCord was restless. Sleep 
almost fled. Her husband was a little worried 
about her; but in reply to his loving inquiries, 
she simply said, “O, nothing; I can not sleep.” 
Immediately after breakfast the next morning 
she put on her wraps and called on Mrs. Sidney 
Patterson, a neighbor, and also a member of the 
same Church, and of the same social rank. She 
had scarcely been seated when she said: 

“Mrs. Patterson, what do you think? I was 
at prayer-meeting last night !” 

21 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


“Can it be possible?’’ exclaimed Mrs. Patter- 
son, holding up both hands in genuine amaze- 
ment. “Why, what is going to happen? Is the 
world coming to an end ?” 

“I am inclined to think that some things that 
belong only to this world are about coming to 
an end with me,” said Mrs. McCord, seriously. 

“Why, Mrs. McCord, you surprise me; in- 
deed, you alarm me. Are you ill? Or what in 
the world has happened to make you talk in this 
strange way ?” inquired Mrs. Patterson. 

Then Mrs. McCord proceeded to report to her 
friend what had occurred at the prayer-meeting, 
giving the address as she remembered it, and es- 
pecially the impression it made upon her, with 
her determination to try and literally obey the 
Master, by making a dinner to which she intended 
to invite none but “the poor, the maimed, the 
lame, and the blind.” 

“Why, Mrs. McCord, what do you mean ? You 
must be beside yourself,” interrupted Mrs. Pat- 
terson. 

“Not at all; I am just coming to myself,” an- 
swered Mrs. McCord, with an expression in her 
face and voice that worried her friend. 


22 


A REVELATION OF DUTY . 


“Why, what will the members of the Church 
of the Upper Strata think of you ? Do n’t you 
know that the demands of our social position are 
so great that you have no time for such eccentric 
experiments as you propose ?” insisted Mrs. Patter- 
son. 

“I am not in the least concerned about what 
my friends will think of me,” replied Mrs. 
McCord. “And, as to the demands of our social 
rank, it is about time some other claims were 
recognized and met.” 

“Well,” said Mrs. Patterson, a little out of 
patience, and somewhat annoyed at the cool and 
unanswerable way in which her protests were 
met, “if you are going into the ‘slumming busi- 
ness’ you had better join the Salvation Army, 
and march the streets, and sing, and rattle a tam- 
bourine. You would make a charming Salvation 
lassie. Let me know when and where you will 
make your first appearance, and I will stand on 
the opposite corner and look at you, and say 
‘Amen.’ ” 

Mrs. McCord, not in the least nettled by this 
modest attempt to perpetrate the argumentum ad 
invidiam , arose, and, adjusting her wraps, kindly 
23 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


but emphatically said: “Mrs. Patterson, we have 
always been friends; if our friendship is ever 
interrupted, it will not be my fault. I do not 
need to join the Salvation Army to find a field 
of labor. But I greatly respect them for their 
good work and sacrifice. They probably hold a 
higher place in the thought of the Master than 
many of us in the Church of the Upper Strata. 
As to standing on the opposite corner to look at 
m§ and to say ‘Amen/ perhaps it would be as 
well for you first to attend your own prayer- 
meeting and say ‘Amen’ to the earnest words of 
our pastor. The exercise will be helpful. I will 
call again and report on the new departure. 
Good-bye.” 

“Good-bye. Come over often, and tell me all 
about it,” said Mrs. Patterson, not feeling at all 
satisfied with the outcome of the interview. 


U 


III. 

TWELVE NEWSBOYS INVITED TO DINNER. 

Mrs. McCord began at once to plan for carry- 
ing out her' purpose. In thinking about “the poor, 
the maimed, the lame, the blind,” her mind settled 
upon the newsboys and bootblacks of the city as 
more nearly representing that description than 
any other ; for she had often observed, when down- 
town, that among these boys were some blind 
of one eye, deficient of one arm, short in one 
leg, some cross-eyed, some walking on crutches, 
and nearly all garbed in clothing made for others 
larger than themselves. So she determined to in- 
vite a dozen of these “street Arabs” to her own 
house for “dinner.” She first prepared a neat 
little invitation, written on a plain white card, as 
follows: “Mrs. Beverly McCord will be pleased 
to have you take dinner with her, at her own resi- 
dence, 11 1 Upper Grade Avenue, Thursday, 25th 
of September, at one o’clock P. M.” Then, board- 
ing a street-car, she proceeded to the business 
25 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


center of the city, where the newsboys were ply- 
ing their trade, and leaving the car hailed the first 
one she met. 

“Say, little boy, I want to speak to you. What 
is your name ?” 

“Who ’s youse ? Is youse de cop ’s old woman ? 
I haint did nothin’/’ answered the boy, supposing 
the good woman wanted his name to have him 
arrested. 

“Ho, no, I ’m your friend. Tell me your 
name,” she said in a way that removed his sus- 
picion. 

“Me name am Bud. I sells de Post , J ourneal , 
Times , and Tribunee. Buy a pape, loidy?” 

“Yes, I ’ll take two. But what is your right 
name, the one your father and mother call you 
by?” inquired Mrs. McCord. 

“Hain’t got no fadder ; he ’s dead. Me mud- 
der, she call me George.” 

“Well, what is your mother’s name?” 

“Her name am Mis’sis Buddington.” 

“Then your real name is George Buddington ?” 

“Yes ’em ; dat ’s it ; but de kids, dey calls me 
‘Bud.’ Buy a Tribunee , loidy?” 

“Yes, I ’ll take all you have.” 

26 


NEWSBOYS INVITED TO DINNER. 


“Hullyv gee, loidy, who is youse I Did youse 
jist cum to de city ? Dat do n’t go wid me. Hah !” 

Having received and paid for Bud’s entire 
stock of papers, she handed them back to him, 
saying she did not need them, as she already had 
all the papers at home. 

“How, Bud,” continued Mrs. McCord, “I am 
going to have a dinner at my house next Thurs- 
day for some of my friends, and I want you and 
some more of the newsboys to come.” 

Bud looked at her with mingled seriousness 
and awe, and inquired: “Does youse mean dat, 
loidy? Will de cops be dare? W’ere does youse 
live, loidy?” 

“Yes, Bud, I mean it. The ‘cops’ won’t be 
there. I live at 777 Upper Grade Avenue,” said 
Mrs. McCord, as she handed him the card of in- 
vitation. 

“All right, hunky, I ’ll be dare, shue, shue. 
Buy anudder Tribunee , loidy?” 

“Hot to-day, Bud. How do n’t you disap- 
point me.” 

“Hot much, if dis kid nose hisself.” 

Mrs. McCord then proceeded to hail other 
boys, and, after more or less difficulty in over- 

27 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


coming their incredulity and winning their con- 
fidence, chiefly by purchasing the entire stock of 
papers carried by each, she at last secured her 
dozen guests, with a promise that they would 
come to her “dinner.” After giving a card to 
each one, she completed her down-town shopping 
and returned home. 

The appearance of Mrs. McCord among the 
street boys, the purchase of their entire stock of 
papers, and the return of the same, with the in- 
vitation to dinner next Thursday, produced an 
unusual commotion among the street fraternity. 
Immediately following the reception of the in- 
vitation, the dozen news merchants struck out in 
different directions, each crying at the top of his 
voice, “Ere ’s yer mornin’ papes, Trxbunee , Post , 
’ Erald , Rip Rap , and Saturday Evening Street 
Sweeper-er .” The rest of the fraternity, number- 
ing a hundred or more, in sight and hearing, 
though they knew nothing of the secret that 
moved the dozen to such sudden zeal, determined 
not to be outdone ; so they, too, set up a cry for 
the sale of their goods, that rose high above the 
noise of all other street traffic, and in a very little 
while all was sold, and they were on their way 
28 


NEWSBOYS INVITED TO DINNER . 


back to the printing-office for more papers. Every- 
body asked, “What ’s the matter with the news- 
boys?” 

That night, when Bud returned home, his 
mother noticed that he was in an unusually good 
humor. Generally she had to command, or scold, 
or beg to have the necessary little chores per- 
formed. But this evening, much to her surprise, 
Bud voluntarily and cheerfully filled up the wood- 
box, carried out the ashes, renewed the water-pail, 
emptied the garbage, and actually asked his mother 
if she did n’t want him to sweep the floor. At 
the supper-table, which consisted of a store-box, 
a few dilapidated dishes, spread with a very scanty 
supper of the plainest and cheapest food, Bud 
said, with a feeling that he was telling something 
that ought not be told, or that could not be true, 
because it was so unusual : 

“Mudder, got sum’en to tell youse. Got a 
bid ter a feed, Thursday. Eoice loidy held me 
up on de street and tuk all me papes, and laid 
down de dough for ’em, de generine stuff, and 
den gim ’em all back ter me, and said, ‘Sell ’em 
ag’in.’ And you may poke me in de glems if it 
ain’t the shue enuf trufe, she gim’me dis card, and 
29 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


she say, ‘Do n’t you discomboberate me, Bud/ or 
sum’en like dat, and I said, ‘Shue as me name ’s 
Bud, I ’ll be dare. Noice loidy, youse bet.” 

And he gave the card to his mother, who, 
after adjusting her glasses and turning the light 
of the flickering lamp up a little higher, read, with 
much difficulty, the invitation. 

“Well, you do n’t think of goin’, Bud, do you? 
You haint got no decent duds to wear.” 

“Uv course I ’se a-goin’. Hain’t I got de bid ? 
Youse can jist fix up me old harnis while I ’m 
a-snorin’, Wenzy night. Won’t youse, please?” 
That was the first time his mother could remem- 
ber ever to have heard Bud say “please.” 

“Yes, my dear boy, I ’ll do the best I can for 
you.” That was the first time Bud ever heard 
his mother say “dear boy.” 

Similar scenes and conversations took place in 
the homes, so-called, of the other eleven boys in- 
vited to Mrs. McCord’s dinner. Human nature 
is much the same, whatever may be its outward 
garb or environment. Kindness begets kindness. 
“Whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also 
reap.” The best elements of a coarse and un- 
cultured nature may be coaxed out by the ingoing 
30 


NEWSBOYS INVITED TO DINNED. 


of the sunlight of kindness, just as plants in dark 
cellars will always lean towards the sunlight that 
penetrates the smallest aperture ; just as the finest 
flowers are perfected and the best fruit ripened 
by the warm touches of the sun’s inspiring rays. 

Next morning, after Bud had hurried over 
his “beat” down-town, it occurred to him that he 
might sell some papers on Upper Grade Avenue; 
so he hied himself away to the neighborhood of 
“777.” As he walked slowly up the avenue, cry- 
ing “Ere ’s your mornin’ Tribunee /” he observed 
carefully the numbers on all the houses, until at 
last his eyes fell on “777.” The figures looked 
unusually large to him. But they were there, 
corresponding exactly to the number on the card. 
That was the place, sure, and he felt himself six 
inches taller as he viewed the splendid house and 
grounds, and remembered that he was to take 
dinner in that house Thursday. As he turned to 
go back to his down-town “headquarters,” he 
heard an unusual noise, similar to that when a 
dozen boys rush from the office into the street, 
crying the sale of war extras. The eleven other 
boys had felt a like drawing with Bud towards 
Upper Grade Avenue, and coming upon the 
31 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


avenue from Sixth and Seventh Streets, they were 
a surprise to each other and to Bud, and they 
sought to conceal the real object of their com- 
ing by an unusual vigorous cry for the sale of 
their papers. But, like Bud, their chief interest 
centered in “777,” and when their eyes were 
favored with the sight of these welcome figures, 
and the beautiful house and grounds, they too 
started back for their usual places of business, 
congratulating themselves that it would be only 
about twenty-four hours until they would be inside 
of that beautiful mansion as invited guests to a 
“dinner,” the excellency of which their imagina- 
tions magnified more and more as the time drew 
near. A very little attention to those beneath us 
generally inspires self-respect and self-confidence, 
and awakens latent hopes for better things. 


32 


IV. 

THE DINNER AND ITS EFFECT. 

Mrs. McCord had informed her husband of 
the intended dinner, which he heartily approved, 
as he did everything that his wife undertook; 
for she was a woman of sterling sense and su- 
perior judgment, with remarkable force of char- 
acter in carrying out all her plans. Full a half 
hour before one o’clock the guests began to arrive 
in groups of two, three, and four. Their appear- 
ance was certainly unique, but much to their credit, 
and more to the credit of their mothers, when 
their poverty was considered. It was quite ap- 
parent that, with two or three exceptions, the 
clothes they wore had not been made for them. 
But one thing was clearly in evidence, they were 
clean. It must be confessed that the boys spent 
a large portion of the preceding evening in test- 
ing the virtue of soap and water and towels, using 
their mother’s washtubs for bathing purposes. 
If it be true, as Liebig says, that a nation’s progress 
33 


3 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


in civilization can be determined by the quantity 
of soap it uses, these boys must have made quite 
a stride in civilization the night before. Doubt- 
less the laundry work had been done by their 
mothers while the boys were dreaming of the 
good “dinner” of the next day. Their faces had 
not been so bereft of dirt since they first appeared 
on the planet ; their hair was combed straight and 
parted on the side, or in the middle; while their 
shoes showed beyond doubt that they were all 
masters of the “shiner’s” art. They were re- 
ceived at the door by Mrs. McCord herself, to 
each of whom she said, as she grasped their rough 
hands, “Why, boys, I am so glad to see you all, 
and you look so nice and clean. I was a little 
afraid you might not come, or might not find the 
place;” to which Bud responded: 

“Xot much. Youse bet wese find de ranch. 
Us kids never plays de sneak on our friends. 
When de gang gibs its wurd, it allers keeps 
skedule time. Sum of de kids lost der way hum 
yisterday, and made a short cut by dis avenew, 
and axerdently seed de figgers “777,” so dey all 
pinted dis way when de time was cum to start 
fur de feed.” 


34 


THE DINNER AND ITS EFFECT. 


“Well, boys, come right into the parlor, and 
sit down or stand up, just as you prefer,” said 
Mrs. McCord, “while I look after the dinner.” 

Their eyes opened to their full limit as they 
entered the splendidly-furnished apartment. True, 
they walked over the rich velvet carpet as if it 
were covered with tacks, sharp ends upward; but 
they felt welcome. The beautiful pictures at- 
tracted their attention at once. Mr. McCord had 
recently paid $5,000 for an oil-painting of John 
the Baptist, clad in a coat of camel’s hair, with 
a shepherd’s staff in one hand and a bunch of 
locust-berries in the other. When the eyes of 
one of the boys fell upon it, pointing to the pic- 
ture, he said, “Say, kids, swat de old guy in de 
gob.” Another happened to observe Millet’s 
Angelus, and suggested that “Dat lobster an his 
gal ort ter gadder up de taters an not stand dare 
a-poutin’ in de tater-patch.” Snody was attracted 
by a statue of Venus in the corner of the parlor, 
and remarked seriously, “Say, Bud, gib dat loidv 
de loan of youse coat.” Another very fine paint- 
ing was Jacob’s Ladder, with the angels ascend- 
ing and descending. Bud examined it closely, 
and threw down this challenge, “I ’ll bet two coze 
35 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


wid any kid dat dat leetle feller jist startin’ in 
at de lore end uv de ladder will win out fust at 
de top.” Six voices answered, “I ’ll hold de 
chinks.” 

Presently Mrs. McCord returned and said she 
desired to take the names of the boys, and the 
places where they lived, so she could visit them 
and their mothers at their own homes. She pro- 
ceeded, therefore, to write them down as given, in 
this order : 

George Buddington alias Bud. 

James McFadden alias Jammie. 

Ole Olson alias Bull. 

James Snodgrass alias Snody. 

George Washington Brown, alias Hatchy. 

John Singleton alias Singy. 

Peter Broomfield alias Broomy. 

Jacob Isaacs alias Sheeny. 

Thomas Snorter alias Snorty. 

Wm. Silverman alias Sixteen-to-one. 

Joseph Banker alias Goldbug. 

Edward Wetherspoon alias Spoony. 

These twelve, with Mr. and Mrs. McCord and 
their son and daughter, were seated for dinner. 
The table was decorated with carnations and roses. 
A carnation was at every plate, which Mrs. 
McCord and her daughter pinned to the lapel of 
each boy’s coat, where such a place could be 
36 


THE DINNER AND ITS EFFECT. 

found. The menu was plain but substantial ; just 
such as was best fitted to satisfy the kind of guests 
at the board. A few words of grace, at the close 
of which the boys looked toward the parlor door 
to see who would come in in answer to the re- 
quest “Be thou present and bless our food,” and 
the feast began. Mr. McCord entertained the 
boys with two or three very comical stories he 
remembered for the occasion. But his youthful 
hearers were much more interested in what was 
on their plates than in the stories. Mrs. McCord 
asked the boys many questions about their ex- 
perience in selling papers, but Bud was the only 
one that had courage to answer. She adroitly 
indicated, from time to time, that other good 
things were coming, so that they might have a 
taste of everything prepared. The picture of 
these twelve hungry urchins, vigorously attacking 
the rich contents of the feast, is more easily 
imagined than described. Their manners could 
not be said to be in “good form,” but the satis- 
faction with which they consumed the eatables 
would have made a French cook proud of his 
culinary profession. They literally fulfilled the 
apostolic injunction, “Whatsoever is set before 
37 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 

you, eat, asking no questions for conscience’ sake.” 
One or two could not resist the temptation to 
lay in a small supply for home consumption, which 
elicited the protest from Bud: “Youse kids dish 
dem oranges out uv youse pockits, an’ swipe ’em 
back on ter de table. Dis haint no Dimerkratic 
barbeekay.” “Sheeny, skuddle dat bred down dis 
way,” said Snorty. “Hain’t got more ’nuff up dis 
way,” replied Sheeny. “O, there ’s plenty more,” 
said Mrs. McCord. “Eat all you want, boys.” 
When the red sherbet was served, the guests looked 
at the little glass cups, and then at each other, and 
then at Mrs. McCord. Presently Snody inquired, 
“Wat is dis ?” “I ’ll tell youse,” answered Gold- 
bug, “dis am red chury kobler.” “It ’s pulmerized 
beet-sugar kept on ice,” suggested Broomy. “I ’ll 
bet youse sixteen to one,” said Silverman, “it ’s 
nothin’ but kullerd ice an lemon-juce,” as he 
sampled it with a spoon. Whatever it was, or 
was not, it soon disappeared. Finally the dinner 
was ended, and the guests repaired again to the 
parlor. Master McCord and his sister, Adelia, 
played a duet on the piano, and Adelia sang a 
pretty little song. Just then the door-bell rang, 
and Dr. Goodfellow entered and met the boys. 

38 


THE DINNER AND ITS EFFECT . 


Mrs. McCord explained that she was having a 
few of her newsboy friends for dinner, and that 
she was real glad to have the doctor come and 
get acquainted with them. The pastor looked 
somewhat confused, as if he thought there was 
something in the air he did not understand. But 
he made himself very agreeable to the boys, told 
them several funny stories, at which they laughed 
heartily, said he was so glad to have met them, 
hoped to see them again soon, and bade them 
good-bye. 

The boys were so unconscious of the passage 
of time, and so happy in their surroundings, that 
it was necessary for Mrs. McCord to say to them 
that perhaps they would only have time enough 
to get to the newspaper offices for the evening- 
papers. So they reluctantly retired, Mr. and Mrs. 
McCord thanking them for the pleasure they had 
afforded in taking dinner with them, and assur- 
ing each of a cordial welcome any time they might 
call again. 

The “kids” started away in a body. ISTot a 
word was uttered until they were a block distant. 
The silence was broken by little Jammie Mc- 
Fadden, who, having a short leg, could scarcely 
39 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


keep pace with the others. He said to Bud, who 
was a kind of leader among them: 

“Bud, was dat heben? Was dat loidy and de 
leetle gal de angels ?” 

“Do n’t know, Jammie; but if heben am as 
good as dat, you bet dis kid ’ll neber kick ag’in’ 
goin’ dare,” answered Bud, with genuine anima- 
tion. 

“O, dat turk’, an dat ise scream, an dat cake ! 
he make me feel so goot in here,” declared Sheeny, 
as he placed his hands over his vest. 

“Ya tanks dat music was very foine, dat leetle 
boy un dat leetle gairl, day was so goot on de 
pianer. Ya tanks ya will buy une leetle pianer 
fur ma mutter,” declared Ole Olson, who was 
doubtless called after the celebrated violinist for 
whom the boys nicknamed him, because of his 
early musical inclination. 

“Did youse kids see de purty pozies on de 
feed bench? Wat youse call dem, de kornashuns 
and de bozes? Did youse site de smell of dem 
pozies ?” inquired Goldbug. “Hully gee, I ’ll stop 
de fust flower kart I runs into an swipe a bokay 
for me sister an’ me ole mudder,” he continued, 
jumping up two feet into the air. 

40 


THE DINNER AND ITS EFFECT . 


And so every boy bad his own opinion about 
the feast, and expressed himself in his own way, 
until they received their stock of evening papers, 
which were disposed of in half the usual time, 
so that they were all home that evening an hour 
earlier than usual. Each one gave a character- 
istic account of the dinner, and their treatment, 
to the home folks, and also reported that “Misses 
Cord, de foine loidy,” said she was coming to see 
their mothers and sisters very soon. 

These twelve boys closed their eyes that night 
on what was to them a new world, and dreamed 
of the good angels of God. A new inspiration 
had come into their lives. Strange and unde- 
veloped hopes flitted athwart their vision. Crude 
ambitions to be something in the great world be- 
gan to struggle within them, the meaning of which 
they did not understand, so obscure and hope- 
less had been their young lives hitherto. The 
angel in the marble was already stirring for free- 
dom. When they rose from their beds the next 
morning, they looked into a world that had in it 
flowers, and pictures, and music, and a good 
woman, and a sweet little girl, and a kind man, 
and a nice little boy, and a splendid home, and 
41 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


plenty of good things to eat, such as they never 
dreamed of until the day before. 

When Mrs. McCord retired that night she had 
a clear conscience, a sweet peace of mind, a sense 
of satisfaction with herself and what she had 
done, and a love for the Master, with an indefin- 
able presence about her which she could not name, 
that she had never before realized. Her experi- 
ence had awakened the hidden angels of her 
breast. She, too, closed her eyes to dream of a 
world redeemed from poverty and sorrow. Troops 
of “the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind, ” 
gathering about the great Physician nineteen hun- 
dred years ago, all healed by him, and sent to their 
homes rejoicing, marched before her, while, ever 
and anon, a voice tenderly said, “When thou 
makest a dinner or a supper, call the poor, the 
maimed, the lame, the blind, for thou shalt be 
recompensed at the resurrection of the just.” 

When she opened her eyes to the light of a 
new day, she, too, looked upon a brighter world. 
A new light had come to her. Life had taken on 
a larger meaning. Many things that she had sup- 
posed very proper had dropped out of her plans 
and thought. Up to date she had been immersed 
42 


THE DINNER AND ITS EFFECT. 


in frivolous things, not especially sinful, but use- 
less; she had simply been passing the time in a 
whirl of respectable worldliness, with no concep- 
tion of her power and opportunity for making the 
world such as the Master would have it. He was 
now leading her whither she did not know. For 
the first time in her life she said to herself that 
morning, “Whither he leads I will follow.” 


Y. 

MRS. McCORD AND MRS. PATTERSON CROSS 
SWORDS. 

The next morning Mrs. McCord called to see 
her friend, Mrs. Patterson. She extended to her 
a cordial greeting, with the usual formal smile, 
and with a little of the patronizing air, not having 
forgotten entirely the last visit. While Mrs. Mc- 
Cord noticed this it did not affect her. 

“I am so glad to see you,” said Mrs. Patterson. 
“I am so anxious to hear all about your dinner 
yesterday. I came pretty nearly running over 
to see how the little streets Arabs would act in 
your fine home ; they must have felt and acted like 
wild birds in a wire cage.” 

“I ’m glad you did not come,” courteously re- 
plied Mrs. McCord. “You would have embar- 
rassed my little friends. I did not have them 
there for exhibition, but because I wanted to do 
what I thought the Master would approve. The 
44 


CROSSING SWORDS . 


little fellows seemed to enjoy themselves very 
'much indeed. But I think the largest beneficiary 
of the affair was myself.” 

“Now, Mrs. McCord, is it possible that you 
still have that wild notion in your head? I sup- 
posed in a day or two you would recover from the 
effect of that unfortunate address of Dr. Good- 
fellow in the prayer-meeting, and resume your 
normal state and recognized place of leadership 
in the highest walks of society, for which you have 
such eminent qualifications. Several of our mu- 
tual friends have expressed the profoundest as- 
tonishment at your erratic course, and can not 
imagine what has come over you.” These words 
were uttered by Mrs. Patterson with genuine sin- 
cerity and friendship for Mrs. McCord. 

“I am quite sorry for our friends; I have no 
doubt they mean well. I can sympathize with 
them. I have been through the same experience. 
I know how they look at me. But I trust and 
pray that the true light may come to them as it has 
come to me,” answered Mrs. McCord, with a gen- 
tleness of tone that really irritated Mrs. Patter- 

true light,” said Mrs. Patterson, with a 
45 


son. 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


peculiar curl of the under lip, and a vacant glance 
towards the ceiling. Then readjusting herself she 
proceeded to the work of showing Mrs. McCord, 
in a very earnest way, the folly, if not the wrong, 
of her course. “How, Mrs. McCord, you must 
know that the higher-class people are worth much 
more in the sight of the Master than these Street 
Arabs’ and their kind. He estimates things as 
they are, and not as they ought to be. He chooses 
the best material, and devotes his labor where the 
best results may be expected. Can you imagine 
for a moment that if he were to come to this city 
he would gather about him these little ‘Arabs’ 
and their ignorant and wicked parents, when he 
could come into the Church of the Upper Strata 
and have the very best people of the city to hear 
him? Did he not go to the house of Zaccheus, a 
rich man? How do be reasonable, and do not 
throw away the great opportunities that are be- 
fore you.” 

Mrs. McCord drew her chair a little nearer 
to her friend, and with the feeling that her best 
effort was now needed, answered: 

“The Master does not see as men see; for 
while they look on the shell, he looks at the jewel 
46 


CROSSING SWORDS . 


within. Money, position, fine dress, and adorn- 
ments count for nothing with him. Possibilities 
here, and endless possibilities hereafter, are what 
he sees. True, he did go to the house of Zaccheus, 
not because he was rich, but because he was a 
man. He also stood at Jacob’s Well and talked 
with a poor woman who was a ‘sinner.’ He also 
dined with publicans and sinners; still more, he 
had not where to lay his head, excepting perhaps 
the loving hospitality afforded him in the house 
of Mary and Martha, at Bethany. And is it not 
written that ‘though he was rich, yet for our sakes 
he became poor, that we through his poverty 
might be made rich?’ And again, ‘Inasmuch as 
ye have done it unto one of the least of these my 
brethren, ye have done it unto meV Mrs. Patter- 
son, you must know that the true philosophy of 
a happy life is to do good to others ; not to those 
that are of the same rank only, but to those that 
move in the lower ranks of life. Society is so 
constructed that the lower classes, as we call them, 
can only be reached and elevated by going down 
to them, putting our arms about them, and help- 
ing them up to the higher plane. You and I 
would never have been what we are, and where 
47 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


we are, if some person before us had not helped 
our forefathers to rise.” 

Mrs. Patterson exhibited slight nervousness, 
and remarking that the “air is close in this room,” 
rose and opened the hall door, and lowered the 
parlor window a little. Then resuming her seat, 
she proceeded: 

“Mrs. McCord, of course you understand that 
there are certain geological formations, consist- 
ing of a series of layers of rocks, called lower and 
upper. Each tier or stratum is perfect in itself, 
and does not overlap or run into the other. No 
provision is found in nature for the lower to rise 
out of its place into the higher. Society has at 
least three divisions, the lower, the middle, and the 
higher. It has always been so, and always will 
be so. If occasionally, by some revolution, or 
social earthquake, a few are thrown from the 
lower stratum to the higher, it is abnormal, and 
is no argument for lifting the entire lower mass. 
Mrs. McCord, you are an educated woman and 
understand these things as well as myself.” Then 
Mrs. Patterson applied her smelling-bottle and 
braced herself for a reply. 

Mrs. McCord listened with much interest to 


48 


CROSSING SWORDS. 


her friend’s discourse on geology and sociology, 
and with a smile of satisfaction covering her face, 
as if a stream of sunshine had just fallen on it, 
delivered her answer on this wise: 

“I perceive, Mrs. Patterson, that you remem- 
ber very well your seminary instruction in geol- 
ogy. I also have some recollection of mine. It 
seems to have been forgotten by you, however, 
that the lower, or first and oldest rocks of the 
earth, have, by some force, been upheaved, and 
are now at the top in many places, and will prob- 
ably remain there until removed by some pre- 
ternatural force. But rock is rock, whether found 
in the lower or upper formations. Similar revo- 
lutions and upheavals have occurred, and are still 
occurring, in society ; some suddenly and abruptly, 
others more slowly and gradually. Christianity 
is the mightiest upheaving force that has ever ap- 
peared in the world. It was said of the first 
evangelists that ‘they had turned the world up- 
side down.’ The richest minerals and the purest 
diamonds are found in the deepest depths. Mind 
is mind wherever you find it. Our work is largely 
to cultivate and polish the souls of men. As we 
do not wait for the unpolished diamonds and pearls 
4 4 £ 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


to come to us, but plunge into the depths of earth 
and sea in search of them, we are not to wait 
for the hidden and the lost among men to come 
to us, but must search for them. The Master left 
the ninety and nine and went out into the wilder- 
ness in search of the lost one.” 

Just then a neighbor called, and brought to 
a close this interesting discussion, much to the re- 
lief of Mrs. Patterson, who was beginning to 
realize her inability to meet the arguments of 
Mrs. McCord in the support of her proposed 
change in social and religious dynamics. Mrs. 
McCord excused herself, and after suggesting that 
perhaps Mrs. Patterson might desire some day to 
give a “dinner” herself to the poor, the maimed, 
the lame, and the blind, said “Good-morning.” 

“Never,” answered Mrs. Patterson, as she 
opened the door and said, “Call again, Mrs. Mc- 
Cord. Will always be glad to see you.” 


50 


VI. 


MRS. McCORD VISITS THE MOTHERS OF THE 
NEWSBOYS. 

Mrs. McCord had crossed the Rubicon. While 
the bridges behind had not been burned, she did 
not desire to return. Her experience so far was 
more than satisfactory. She did not know what 
was before her, but she would make further ex- 
plorations. So when she fixed upon a day to visit 
the homes of her dozen guests, according to her 
promise, she started with somewhat of the feel- 
ing of those who are in search of a new land, 
not for a moment anticipating the revelations 
that would come to her. It is thus the Divine 
Hand often leads. It is best that it is so. Sud- 
den revelation of duty, necessity, and responsibil- 
ity would overwhelm, discourage, and cause most 
of us to turn back. Gradually the neck is pre- 
pared for the yoke, the back for the burden, and 
the heart for the larger drafts of sympathy and 
love. 

Mrs. McCord could have arrayed herself in 
51 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


finest attire, and ridden in her own carriage, with 
liveried coachman. But she did not. She clothed 
herself in plainest costume, and used the street- 
cars to reach the part of the city desired. She 
was just a little surprised to learn on her way 
that the particular locality for which she was 
searching was known as the “ Wicked Ward.” But 
this knowledge, instead of discouraging her, only 
sharpened her desire to know how the mothers 
of her little guests lived. She first sought Bud’s 
home. After climbing a rickety, dirty old stair- 
way on the outside of a tenement building, to the 
third story, she found Mrs. Buddington. Her 
home included two small rooms, with neither 
paper nor paint on the walls, and no carpet on the 
floor, except a piece of gunny-sack cloth, spread 
at the door. The furniture consisted of one whole 
chair, one chair minus the back, two cracker- 
boxes, and a medium-sized store-box, with two 
or three shelves in it, which served for both table 
and pantry. A dilapidated single bedstead in one 
room for Mrs. Buddington, and an old skeleton of 
a cheap lounge in the other for Bud, constituted 
the provision for sleeping. The walls were ut- 
terly destitute of pictures, and the windows had 
52 


THE MOTHERS OF THE NEWSBOYS. 


the cheapest of curtains. A small wood-stove 
stood in the corner. Evidently Mrs. Buddington 
was expecting a call, for the floor had been freshly 
scrubbed, and the place had an air of cleanliness 
not usually found in such abodes. A small 
bouquet of inexpensive flowers was on the store- 
box table. This was Bud’s token of welcome to 
the “noice loidy” of 777 Upper Grade Avenue. 
Bud had done his morning work on the street, 
and had just returned home. Mrs. McCord re- 
lieved all embarrassment by adapting herself to 
the surroundings, and soon won the confidence 
of Bud’s mother ; she already had Bud’s. 

She inquired into the family history; ascer- 
tained that Mr. Buddington had died when Bud 
was six years old, leaving them nothing; that the 
widow had in a way supported herself and little 
boy by taking in washing; that her income was 
never more than five dollars a week, including 
what Bud received from the sale of papers. Out 
of this must be paid one dollar and fifty cents 
a week for rent, leaving three dollars and fifty 
cents for all living expenses and clothing. Mrs. 
Buddington was, or rather had been, a Catholic, 
but had not seen a priest or been inside of a church 
53 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


since the death of her husband. Bud had come 
to his present age, fourteen years, hardly knowing 
the difference between God and the devil. No 
one ever darkened their door, excepting Jammie 
McFadden’s mother, who lived in the same build- 
ing, and who made an occasional call to talk over 
the business of their respective boys. The great 
outside world moved on utterly regardless of their 
existence or happiness. If they should drop out 
of being they would no more be missed than an 
atom of dust that might fall from the great globe 
into fathomless space, excepting that for a day 
or two Bud’s voice w r ould not be heard crying, 
“Ere ’s your mornin’ Trib-un-ee ,” and some other 
vender of papers might possibly inquire, “W’ere ’s 
dat kid dat kawled hi’self Bud ?” And the neigh- 
bors might notice that Mrs. Buddington did not 
go up and down the rickety stairs any more, and 
that the plain window-curtains were down all day ; 
and so the world would go on without a jar or 
jolt in the wheels. Such is life and death to many. 
What a lonesome place this world must be to 
all such ! Truly did the little brooklet sing, 

“Men may come, and men may go, 

But I go on forever.” 


54 


THE MOTHERS OF THE NEWSBOYS. 


Mrs. McCord bade Bud and his mother good- 
bye, and said she would perhaps see them again 
before long. Then she called to see Mrs. Mc- 
Fadden and Jammie. When Jammie saw her 
coming, he ran to his mother and said : “Mudder, 
dare cums de angel from heben, shue. I seed 
her de udder day at 777 Upper Grade Avernue. 
No mistake. Wunder ware de kid angel am?” 
Mrs. McFadden was Irish, though her husband 
was Scotch. When Mrs. McCord entered, 
Jammie’s mother made the sign of the cross, and 
holding up her hands exclaimed: “Holy Mary! 
what did the likes of yez iver coom to my poor 
house fur? But it’s mesilf that is plazed to see 
yees. Will yees be sated on a box, good lady? 
Our chairs hev not bin dalivered yit.” Mrs. 
McCord complied. She found the furniture of 
the apartment much like Mrs. Buddington’s, and 
the general condition of the family about the 
same, excepting that the income was a little larger, 
Jammie’s father adding to the receipts from one 
to three dollars a week by odd jobs. When Mrs. 
McCord was about to start, Jammie stepped up 
to her side, and, giving her dress a little jerk, 
said, “Why did n’t youse bring de little kid 
55 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


angel — de noice little gal dat sing’d like de birds 
and played de pianer wid de little boy V 9 

“I will bring her sometime, Jammie; she is 
at school to-day. I am so glad yon enjoyed the 
music/’ answered Mrs. McCord, while she found 
her throat filling with emotion, and relieved her- 
self by a slight cough. 

“Is youse goin’ back to heben now, ware dey 
hab de posies, an’ de music, an’ de birds, an’ de 
picters, an’ all de good tings to eat?” inquired 
Jammie, as he looked into her face with a sin- 
cerity that the rough exterior and street dialect 
of the boy could not conceal. 

“Yes, Jammie; I guess you’re right,” said 
Mrs. McCord, as she thought of her splendid 
home, her bright, loving children, and her devoted 
husband ; and as she started down the rickety old 
stairway she paused a moment to dry the tears 
that had come without invitation. Many do n’t 
know they are living in heaven until they get a 
glimpse of the hell of hopeless poverty and social 
ostracism. 

Mrs. McCord was not able to visit the homes 
of all the boys that day, but completed the round 
a few days later. In every place she found evi- 
56 


THE MOTHERS OF THE NEWSBOYS. 


dence of extreme poverty and destitution, with 
a hard and continuous struggle for life. The 
whole environment was against the poor people. 
The pull was downward. Saloons, gambling-dens, 
bawdy-houses, nickel-in-the-slot machines, low 
wages, insufficient work, relentless landlords, 
abominable tenements, miserable sanitary con- 
ditions, debauched girls, vicious boys, devilish 
men abounded. She learned from reliable sources 
that many mothers and their daughters were try- 
ing to subsist, and keep out of the alms-house and 
the brothel, by the use of the needle, on such 
wages as, — 

15 cents a dozen for white aprons ; 

10 cents a pair for pants ; 

4 cents apiece for plain overcoats ; 

8 cents apiece for better ones ; 

16 cents a dozen for schoolboys’ knee-pants ; 

6 cents apiece for men’s coats ; 

9£ cents apiece for postal pants ; 

60 cents a dozen for the largest overalls. 

And much more of the same kind. These 
prices have all been verified. To live in any kind 
of comfort and decency on such wages is simply 
impossible. Such scenes must make good angels 
weep, and devils laugh, and almost break the heart 
57 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


of God. Surely the day of reckoning will come. 
Who is responsible? Thomas Hood must have 
had these poor women in view when he sang, — 

“ Work — work — work ! 

My labor never flags ; 

And what are its wages? A bed of straw, 

A crust of bread — and rags. 

That shattered roof and this naked floor — 

A table — a broken chair — 

And the wall so blank my shadow I thank 
For sometimes falling there. 

Work — work — work ! 

Till the brain begins to swim ; 

Work — work — work ! 

Till the eyes are heavy and dim. 

Stitch — stitch — stitch ! 

In poverty, hunger, and dirt — 

Sewing at once a double thread, 

A shroud as well as a shirt !” 


58 


VII. 


MRS. McCORD SEEKS COUNSEL FROM HER 
PASTOR. 

Mrs. McCord returned from her visit to the 
“ Wicked Ward” with an oppressed heart. The 
disclosures were appalling. She had never sup- 
posed that such conditions could exist. Indeed, 
she had given herself no concern about the lower 
walks of life. But her attempt to follow literally 
the directions of the Prophet of Nazareth had 
led her into another world. A responsibility had 
been placed upon her which she could not shake 
off. The burden was more than she could carry 
alone. She must have help and counsel. She 
would go to her pastor. He had said, “Try it, 
and report results to your pastor.” So she re- 
paired to his study and gave a detailed account 
of her recent experience with the newsboys, her 
visits to their homes, and the general condition 
of the poor people in that part of the city of 
Chattahooche. She wanted to do what she could 
to improve their condition by letting the sunlight 
into some of their homes, at least; but the need 
59 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


was so great, the poverty and degradation so over- 
whelming, that she almost hesitated to go for- 
ward. “Dr. Goodfellow, do tell me what to do, 
and how to do it,” she implored, with an earnest- 
ness that disturbed the pastor’s accustomed 
equanimity. 

The doctor was delighted to hear of the good 
fruit produced by his prayer-meeting address. He 
assured her of his entire sympathy with the work, 
and promised all the support he could command. 
He called her attention to the great work of Lady 
Huntingdon, Elizabeth Ery, Sarah Martin, Lady 
Somerset, and other elect women of social emi- 
nence and wealth in England and this country. 
The Master had led her into this field; she could 
not retreat. Calif Omar had said, “Four things 
come not back: the spoken word, the sped arrow, 
the spent life, the neglected opportunity.” 

England’s great bard had proclaimed, — 

“To thine own self be true, 

And it must follow, as the night the day, 

Thou canst not then be false to any man." 

Our own Holland had sung, — 

“ I hold this thing to be grandly true — 

That a noble deed is a step toward God, 

Lifting the soul from the common sod 
To a purer air, and a broader view.” 

60 


THE PASTOR’S COUNSEL. 


The wise man cf Israel had said, “He that 
giveth to the poor lendeth to the Lord.” The 
Lord’s promise never goes to protest; he always 
pays. 

The great Teacher gives the rule of final judg- 
ment on which destiny hinges, “Inasmuch as ye 
have done it unto one of the least of these, ye 
have done it unto me.” He never forgets our 
labor of love. The reward is sure. Like a liber- 
ated bird, which sometimes soars aloft and re- 
turns at night to its cage, a good deed sent out 
on wing is pretty sure to return, laden with bene- 
diction, to nest in the heart that sent it. “God 
bless you, Mrs. McCord, as I know he will. I 
almost envy you your grand opportunity and your 
ability to do so much for him whom we love,” 
concluded the pastor. 

“I thank you very much, dear pastor, for your 
good words of sympathy, encouragement, and in- 
spiration,” said Mrs. McCord. “I will not re- 
treat. Whither He leads I will follow. But I 
want to ask you a very important question. Some 
of my dear friends are quite solicitous about my 
social position, assuming that I must abandon it, 
give up my friends and the Church, literally sell 
61 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


all I have and follow Him, in order to do the 
work which he seems to be pointing out for me. 
How, must I do this; or can I still hold my place 
in the social world, retain my friends, and con- 
form to all rules and customs in society that are 
not absolutely forbidden by the Master ?” 

“In all things for which you have not a 
specific, ‘thus saith the Lord/ you must be your 
own judge/’ answered the pastor. “But I see no 
reason why you may not retain your accustomed 
place in the circles where you have hitherto 
moved, thus holding your influence over your 
friends, and carrying the prestige of your exalted 
social station into your new work. He that has 
opened to you this marvelous field will lead you. 
Follow the light as he may give you light, in 
answer to honest prayer, and you will make no 
mistakes. When you want to hold a meeting 
among the Lord’s poor, advise me, and I will be 
glad to serve you and my Master/’ 


62 


VIII. 


DEATH AND BURIAL OF JAMMIE McFADDEN. 

The next morning, as Mrs. McCord was scan- 
ning the Tribune , her eyes fell upon the following 
item of local news : 

“A Sad Accident. — Yesterday afternoon, as 
a little newsboy named Jammie McFadden, who 
is lame because of the shortness of one leg, was 
attempting to cross the street with a bundle of 
papers in his hands, he fell on the track imme- 
diately in front of a moving car. The wheels 
passed over the lame limb. He was at once car- 
ried to his mother’s room in the Hathaway Tene- 
ment Block, close by, where his leg was amputated 
just above the knee. The brave little fellow bore 
the operation like a hero. He was resting easy 
at last report, but it is thought he was injured 
internally, and doubts of his recovery are enter- 
tained.” 

Desiring to reach the suffering boy as soon 
as possible, Mrs. McCord immediately ordered 
her own carriage. Remembering Jammie’s re- 
63 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


quest that she should bring “de little kid angel” 
the next time she visited him, she asked Adelia 
to go with her. Just as they were seated in the 
carriage, Bud came running on the sidewalk, and 
handed Mrs. McCord a note. She opened and 
read: 

“Mrs. McCord, — Me dear little J ammie ’s 
a-dyin’, and me poor heart is a-breakin’. He wants 
to see yees. Coome quick. Mrs. McFadden.” 

Mrs. McCord directed her coachman to drive 
as fast as possible to the Hathaway Tenement 
Block. When she entered the room she found 
Jammie lying on a very plain pallet of straw, 
supported by two boards, the ends resting on two 
small boxes. His father and mother, with Bud’s 
mother, and an Irish policeman, were the only 
persons present. Jammie was very pale and weak 
from the loss of blood. When he saw Mrs. Mc- 
Cord and Adelia, his eyes brightened, and a sad 
smile crept slowly over his little face. “I was 
crossin’ de street,” he said, “to sell a pape to de 
cop, and I failed down, and de wheels catched me 
leg. Say, ware is de udder leg? Wat de doctor 
cut it off fur ? Did youse cum to take me to heben, 
64 


DEATH OF JAMMIE M’FADDEN. 


ware youse hab de purty flow’rs, an’ de picters, 
an’ de noice tings to eat ? Dey does n’t bab no 
street-cars dare, does dey ?” 

“Yes, Jammie,” said Mrs. McCord, as sbe tried 
to bide her tears; “a good strong Man will take 
you to heaven.” 

“Was dat him at youse bouse de udder day?” 

“No, Jammie; a stronger and better Man than 
he will come for you.” 

“Wat am bes noime, and how does bes look ?” 
inquired the little sufferer, with some anxiety 
about the coming of an entire stranger. 

“His name is Jesus, and he said, ‘Suffer little 
children to come unto me.’ Did you ever hear 
of him, Jammie?” 

“Yes ’am ; I hear’d de Salbation lassie singin’ 
about him de udder night just afore the car struct 
me. He do n’t care nuffin’ ’bout a poor kid, de 
likes of me.” 

“Yes, he does, Jammie; and he sent me to 
tell you he was coming for you.” 

“How soon will hes come? We haint got no 
chare for hes to sot on when hes comes.” 

“O, don’t worry about that, Jammie; he will 
not need a chair.” 

5 


65 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


Observing Adelia, Jammie inquired: “Is dat 
de little kid angel? Youse sed you would brin’ 
’er de next time. Wud de little angel please sing 
fur dis kid ?” 

Adelia drew a little closer to the bed, holding 
the hand of her mother, and sang that sweet little 
song: 

“Jesus will help you ; Jesus will help you ; 

Help you with grace from on high ; 

The weakest and poorest the Savior is calling, 

Jesus will help if you try.” 

By this time they were all in tears except the 
singer, while the rough policeman turned his face 
away, and looked out of the window to hide his 
emotion. 

“Wat’s youse all a-cryin’ fur? Youse makes 
me feel bad,” said Jammie, while his voice, grow- 
ing weaker all the time, quivered a little. 

“Won’t you try, Jammie?” said Mrs. McCord. 

“Yes ’am ; I is a a-tryin,” replied the little 
fellow. “Is de night a-comin’? Light de lamp, 
mudder; I can’t see youse all very much. Who 
am dat man? Am dat de strong man a-comin’ 
fur me? I sees him a-comin’ down de big hill, 
wid a white robe in hes hand. All de purty 
66 


DEATH OF JAMMIE M’FADDEN. 


angels am a-comin’ wid him. He ’s a-comin’ 
tow’rd me. Mudder, I ’ll hab to go wid him, he ’s 
axin’ me so noice. Mudder, won’t you go wid me ? 
Fadder, won’t you go too ?” 

Just then Bud entered the room. Mrs. Mc- 
Cord took him by the hand and led him to the 
bedside of J ammie. After a few moments, 
J ammie opened his eyes, and when he saw Bud, 
said: “I ’s a-goin’ to heben, Bud. De last edishun 
am out and sold. ’Ere ’s yer mornin’ Trib-b-b-. 
G-o-o-d--b-y-e, B-u-d.” Then he rallied a little 
and said: “Put out de lamp. It am daylight now. 
O, de purty flow’rs, an’ de good angels! O, de 
light, de b’utiful light ! Who am dat little angel 
reachin’ his hands to me ? Dat looks like Tammie 
[a little brother who died when three years old]. 
I must go. De ’s all a-beck’nin’ me to cum. 
G-o-o-d-b .” 

All stood speechless for a few moments, find- 
ing relief only in silent tears and smothered sobs. 
Jammie’s father was the first to break the silence. 
“The bairn was always a gude laddie. I dinna 
ken an onkaind woard he spake to his mither or 
his fayther. ’Ere ’s me ’and, Jammie, to meet 
ye ower there,” and he took the little white hand, 
67 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


still warm, into liis own, and holding it, continued: 
“He looks so muckle laike Tammie. It will be 
very lonesum when he is gane. I dinna ken how 
his mither and me will leeve without the laddie. 
Gude-bye, Jammie, gude-bye.” 

The Irish policeman, who had not spoken until 
now, ventured, with true Irish earnestness, this 
tribute: “There niver was a betther lad in the 
ward. It ’s mesilf that always loved the b’y, and 
any mon that dares to conthradict what I say 
will fail the waight of me shelaily. I belave the 
lad went strate to heven, without aven stoppin’ 
to take off his cap to the holy St. Pether. And 
it ? s mesilf that will be afther thryin’ to mate 
him there, though by the mim’ry of St. Pathrick, 
I may have to spend soomtime in purgat’ory on 
the way. But niver moind that.” 

Mrs. McCord laid her hands on Mrs. McFad- 
den’s shoulder, and lovingly said: “Poor little 
Jammie is now at rest. You will keep your 
promise to meet him.” 

“To be shure I will, Mrs. McCord. I would 
be plazed to go this minute if I could.” 

Mrs. McCord stepped aside and soliloquized 
thus for a moment: “ I have quietly trodden the 
68 


DEATH OF JAMMIE M’FADDEN. 


aisles of the grandest cathedral of the greatest 
nation on the earth, amid the sleeping dust of 
the world’s most eminent men and women, with 
the forms of the departed dead, chiseled in marble 
or painted on, canvas, looking down upon me; 
I have felt the solemn hush of the place, and yet 
fancied I could almost hear the sound of voices 
now ‘still/ or feel the touch of hands now Van- 
ished/ as I literally walked through these cham- 
bers of the dead. But I have never been so im- 
pressed with the truth of immortality, and the 
reality of a Divine presence, as in this simple 
abode to-day, when God sent his chariots and 
angels to convey this little unknown newsboy to 
the mansions above.” 

Mrs. McCord begged the privilege of making 
all the arrangements for the funeral, which was 
to occur at two o’clock the next afternoon, and 
of meeting all expenses. The following news- 
boys were selected as pallbearers: George Bud- 
dington, Ole Olson, Jacob Isaacs, and Joseph 
Banker. Dr. Goodfellow conducted the religious 
services. Mrs. McCord had sent a rug which 
nearly covered the floor, with a dozen chairs, and 
a few plain pictures, all of which were left per- 
69 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


manently in the house. A few flowers were also 
placed on the white casket. The two rooms were 
crowded with the families of the other eleven 
newsboys and other friends. Dr. Goodfellow 
spoke brief but loving words of sympathy to the 
parents, and of counsel to all present. The hymn, 
“ Jesus will help if you try/’ led by Adelia, was 
sung. A neatly-dressed and respectable-looking 
stranger was present, whom nobody seemed to 
know. He was observed to look for quite a while 
at the pale face of little Jammie, and then, turn- 
ing toward the wall, his lips were seen moving, 
apparently in silent prayer, as he wiped an un- 
bidden tear from his eye. Then he retired from 
the company before any one could speak to him. 
They laid Jammie McFadden away on the shore 
of the great lake, where, amid the sighing of the 
winds and the sobbing of the waves, his little body 
will sleep until the “strong Man” calls it forth 
on the morning of the great uprising of the dead, 
the stars meantime keeping vigil over the sacred 
dust until the consummation of all things. 

Mrs. McCord was now linked by another tie 
to the newsboys and their families, and to others 
in the ward. The door was opening wider and 
70 


DEATH OF JAMMIE M’FADDEN. 


still wider. She seemed to be irresistibly led on 
further and further. She was being directed by 
One who makes no mistakes, and she was cheer- 
fully following. She was having a heavy draft 
upon her sympathy ; but she was already receiving 
her “recompense” in part. 


71 


IX. 

SENSATION IN THE CHURCH OF THE UPPER 
STRATA. 

The next Sabbath was a beautiful, soft, 
autumnal day. The leaves were changing from 
summer green to a golden hue of many shades, 
suggestive of the maturity and ripening of right- 
eous character. Some were falling to the ground, 
emblems of the ending of a finished life. The 
grass in the lawns had that rich emerald tinge 
that characterizes it for a short time before it 
succumbs to the chilling winds and biting frosts 
of the lake region. The singing of the birds did 
not have that bright and youthful cadence of the 
springtime, when they first make their appear- 
ance, but partook rather of a slight minor chord, 
yet mature and deep, as if they had learned some- 
thing of the shortness of life from the fleeting 
summer, and were anticipating a change of scene, 
if not an end of their songs. It was just such a 
72 


SENSATION IN CHURCH. 


day as would incline all thoughtful people to find 
their way to a temple of worship. 

The Church of the Upper Strata was crowded 
with as fashionable and wealthy a congregation 
as ever convened in the great city of Chatta- 
liooche. For a half hour the avenue in front 
of the building was filled with magnificent private 
conveyances, drawn by splendid horses, decked 
in silver-mounted harness, in charge of gayly- 
liveried coachmen. Two Negro servants met the 
people at their carriage-doors and directed them 
to the entrance of the place of worship. Splen- 
didly-attired ushers preceded the gathering throng 
to their pews, while the great organ softly whis- 
pered the sweet melodies of a sacred sonata. The 
air was vocal with the rustling of satins and silks, 
like the swish of angel wings. The glitter of 
diamonds, pearls, and other precious jewels, as 
brilliant and numerous as those that sparkled on 
the gates of the heavenly city, combined with 
radiant sunbeams flowing through the stained- 
glass windows, presented a picture of mellow 
beauty not often witnessed. All were proud of 
their magnificent temple, their superb music, their 
ten-thousand-dollar organ, their eloquent young 
73 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


pastor, and their own lofty social standing and 
assumed financial security. Doubtless many con- 
gratulated themselves that they were so comfort- 
ably situated, never dreaming they could be dis- 
turbed. Dr. Goodfellow had, during the week, 
thought much of what Mrs. McCord had reported 
concerning her work, and the material, intellec- 
tual, and religious destitution of the people of the 
“Wicked Ward ” 

As he surveyed this great congregation, which 
represented wealth, social power, intellectual bril- 
liancy, and unmeasured possibilities for uplifting 
the oppressed, he could hear the cry of widows 
and orphans ; the appeal of overworked and under- 
paid women and girls of the “sweat-shops;” the 
blasphemy and bacchanalian revelry of saloons 
and gamling-hells ; the violent screams of de- 
bauched virtue; the devilish jeers and jokes of 
lustful men ; the groans of the dying in the midst 
of fetid air and foul water; the protest of blush- 
ing purity in rooms where a dozen or more of 
both sexes were crowded together, like cattle in 
a stock-car. When he remembered that his 
Church was doing nothing to relieve or mitigate 
these awful conditions, excepting what Mrs. 

74 


SENSATION IN CHURCH. 


McCord was proposing and doing, and that, for 
even this, she was already becoming the subject 
of unfriendly criticism and the target for ironical 
shafts, his soul was stirred. He needed to pray 
for the grace of self-control and temperate speech. 
He had selected for his text this morning: “For 
I was an hungered, and ye gave me no meat: I 
was thirsty, and ye gave me no drink: I was a 
stranger, and ye took me not in: naked, and ye 
clothed me not: sick, and in prison, and ye visited 
me not. . . . Inasmuch as ye did it not to 

one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.” 
The introductory services were over, excepting 
the solo just before the sermon. The best vocalist 
which a salary of fifteen hundred dollars would 
command rendered a magnificent composition on 
the ineffable glory and superlative joy of the 
eternal life. As the singer took her seat, amid 
the retreating harmonies of the splendid organ, 
the faces of the people had an appearance of in- 
describable self-satisfaction and mutual admira- 
tion. Just as Dr. Goodfellow rose to read his 
text, a very respectable-looking gentleman, oc- 
cupying an end seat of the middle aisle, near the 
front, stepped out into the aisle, and addressing 
75 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


the pastor, asked permission to repeat just a few 
words from the Scriptures. He was a man about 
thirty-five years of age, with full whiskers and a 
moustache closely trimmed, with a slight sprink- 
ling of premature iron-gray in his hair and beard, 
and about five feet ten inches in height. His 
dress was neither shabby nor extravagant, but 
moderately genteel, such as would not attract at- 
tention anywhere, or distinguish him in any crowd. 
His face was open and kind, just such as would 
invite confidence and approach from any one in 
trouble. His voice was a strong, sympathetic 
baritone, full of pathos. There was nothing of 
the “holy tone” in it, indicative of death and the 
judgment-day ; nor anything of the cant and in- 
tolerance of the professional crank or the peri- 
patetic fanatic. He was a stranger to all. Ho 
one had ever seen him before, excepting the pas- 
tor and Mrs. McCord, both of whom recognized 
him as the unknown man at Jammie McFadden’s 
funeral. To all others he was like Melchisedec 
in the matter of his genealogy, and like John the 
Baptist in the suddenness of his appearing. There 
was an awesomeness in the air of the place, and 
a significant quietness among the people, like that 
76 


SENSATION IN CHURCH. 


which precedes a cyclone or the eruption of a 
volcano. The pastor did not deny the stranger’s 
request, hut signed his assent to proceed. The 
unknown man then spoke the following Scripture 
texts, facing the congregation: 

“Cry aloud, spare not, lift up thy voice like 
a trumpet, and show my people their trans- 
gression, and the house of Jacob their sins. Be- 
hold, in the day of your fast ye find pleasure, 
and exact all your labors. Is it such a fast that 
I have chosen? Is not this the fast that I have 
chosen ? to loose the bands of wickedness, to undo 
the heavy burdens, and to let the oppressed go 
free, and that ye break every yoke ? Is it not to 
deal thy bread to the hungry , and that thou bring 
the poor that are cast out to thy house f when thou 
seest the naked, that thou clothe him; and that 
thou hide not thyself from thine own flesh ? Then 
shall thy light break forth as the morning, and 
thine health shall spring forth speedily: and thy 
righteousness shall go before thee; the glory of 
the Lord shall be thy rereward. . . . Think 

not that I am come to send peace on the earth: 
I came not to send peace, but a sword. He that 
taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is 
77 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


not worthy of me. He that findeth his life shall 
lose it: and he that loseth his life for my sake 
shall find it. And whosoever shall give to drink 
unto one of these little ones a cup of cold water 
only in the name of a disciple, he shall in no wise 
lose his reward. Take heed how ye hear.” 

Then the stranger walked slowly down the 
aisle to the door. With his hand upon the door- 
knob, he looked back upon the congregation, and 
was astonished to see that all had turned in their 
seats, with their eyes fixed intently upon him. 
He then added these parting words: “How beau- 
tiful upon the mountains are the feet of him that 
bringeth good tidings ; that publisheth peace ; that 
bringeth good tidings of good; that saith unto 
Zion, Thy God reigneth. The watchman shall lift 
up the voice; with the voice together shall they 
sing ; for they shall see eye to eye, when the Lord 
shall bring again Zion.” 

Then he quietly left the church, without any 
one having an opportunity to speak to him. The 
people looked into one another’s faces, and at 
their pastor, who remained standing through the 
entire incident. He looked at the people and 
toward the door that had just closed on the de- 
78 


SENSATION IN CHURCH. 


parting stranger. Without speaking a word, he 
first read his text, “Inasmuch as ye did it not 
unto one of the least of these, ye did it not to me.” 
The words fell with an unusual weight upon the 
people ; they will never forget them. The pastor 
stated that the episode which had just occurred 
was as much a surprise to him as to the congre- 
gation ; that he could not imagine who the 
stranger was, or what his object could be. “His 
words, however, were Scriptural and most sig- 
nificant, while the speaker was certainly not a 
fanatic nor a crank. Perhaps we may hear from 
him again, and know more about him.” Then he 
delivered a very plain, tender, but wonderfully 
earnest discourse, defining the Church and its most 
important work. It was not a social club, nor 
an aesthetic society, nor a mutual-admiration guild. 
It was rather a hospital where the lame, the halt, 
the blind, and the poor should be gathered for 
treatment and for edification in true manhood. 
It should consider and further everything per- 
taining to the religious, intellectual, social, sani- 
tary, and industrial improvement of the people. 
If it did not do this, it was not doing the work of 
the Master. It should not be exclusive of any 
79 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


class or condition. It should be as broad as the 
sympathy of its Founder, as liberal as the creed 
of the apostle to the Gentiles, as tender as the 
loving John, and as practical as the pointed James, 
who said that “Pure religion and undefiled before 
God and the Father, is to visit the fatherless and 
widows in their affliction, and to keep ourselves 
unspotted from the world.” “I am afraid,” he 
continued, “our Church is misnamed, if it is 
understood that none but people of the higher 
strata are to be welcomed among us. History 
teaches that when a Church fails to do its divinely- 
ordered work, it forfeits its right to be called a 
Christian Church, and will sooner or later be 
supplanted by another more ‘after the mind of 
the Master/ Brethren, I feel deeply on this sub- 
ject. We must change our policy and conform 
to the teaching and methods of the Man of 
Hazareth, otherwise I am afraid our days as a 
Church will soon be numbered.” 

The people of the great congregation never 
retired from a service so quietly and solemnly. 
But little social intercourse was had in the aisles 
or at the doors. Various opinions were expressed 
about the pastor’s sermon and the unusual ad- 
80 


SENSATION IN CHURCH. 


dress of the stranger. All admitted the sincerity 
and devotion of the pastor, but some criticised 
the stranger. An indefinable feeling was in the 
air to the effect that the Church of the Upper 
Strata was approaching some kind of a crisis. 


6 


81 


X. 

MRS. McCORD DISCUSSED IN THE LADIES’ CLUB. 

On Tuesday of this week the Ladies’ Club of 
the Church of the Upper Strata met at the resi- 
dence of Mrs. Patterson, who was its president. 
The uppermost thought in all minds was the ser- 
mon and incident of the preceding Sabbath, and 
the new departure of Mrs. McCord. So dominat- 
ing was this thought that, for the time, all other 
things were forgotten. Mrs. Patterson called the 
Club to order, and remarked that it might be well 
to consider, first, some recent occurrences in their 
Church. “It seems strange to me,” she said, “that 
our pastor should be changing his policy and style 
of preaching. What are we coming to, when an 
entire stranger can interrupt the solemn services 
of the sanctuary as was done last Sabbath? It 
nearly made me sick, after that splendid solo, to 
listen to such an harangue as he gave us. But 
what distresses me most of all is to think that 
Mrs. McCord, whom we all so highly esteem and 
82 


A DISCUSSION IN THE LADIES’ CLUB. 


have always delighted to follow, should be doing 
such strange things. I suppose the ladies know 
that she has recently had a lot of those horrid 
‘street Arabs/ the newsboys, at her home for 
dinner, and that she has actually been making 
calls on the mothers of these boys. To think 
that a leading member of the Church of the Upper 
Strata would so forget herself, and so humiliate 
her friends, is simply incomprehensible to me. 
O dear! What shall we do?” 

“If things go on this way, we might as well 
change our church into a Salvation Army bar- 
racks, or a Methodist revival outfit,” said Mrs. 
B. with a sarcastic smile. 

Mrs. F. thought “it was only one of those 
temporary frenzies that sometimes seize even good 
people, and that Mrs. McCord and the pastor 
would come out all right before long.” 

Mrs. D. was greatly outraged in her feelings 
that “the pastor never interposed an objection to 
that crank speaking Sunday, and that the officers 
of the Church made no attempt to arrest him for 
disturbing the worship of a Christian assembly, 
the most wealthy and aristocratic of the city. 
What will our society friends say?” and she ap- 
83 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


plied her smelling-bottle and fanned herself 
briskly. 

Mrs. P. thought it was “indeed strange if 
people of high birth and eminent social rank could 
not worship with their own kind, and in a con- 
genial way, when they paid for it, without being 
disturbed with sermons about the condition of 
hoodlums and threatenings about the judgment- 
day.” And then she removed her eye-glasses, 
looked through her lorgnette at the ladies in the 
furthest end of the room, wiped and replaced her 
glasses, turned around in her chair, and settled 
down with an air of superb satisfaction, looking 
very wise. 

Mrs. T. suggested that “if Mrs. McCord felt 
called to work among the poorer classes, there 
could be no objection to her joining some Church 
that was in sympathy with that kind of charity. 
She is a lady of intelligence and culture, and she 
will certainly not try to impose her opinions or 
plans upon a high-class Church like ours, whose 
field of operations is exclusively among people of 
the highest grade. I think it would be wise for 
our president to suggest to her that she might 
withdraw. Dr. Goodfellow can resign if our 
84 


A DISCUSSION IN THE LADIES’ CLUB. 


Church is not congenial to him and then she put 
her cambric handkerchief to her mouth, coughed 
a mild cough, and looked as if she had solved the 
problem. 

Several others spoke in the same vein. It 
seemed as if the sentiment was all going one way. 
But a close observer might have noticed some 
agitation and whispering among the ladies who 
had not yet spoken. After a few moments’ pause, 
Mrs. R., a middle-aged lady, of much influence in 
the club, ventured the opinion that “it might be 
well to move slowly. There is danger in haste. 
Too much is involved in this matter to talk lightly 
about our pastor resigning and Mrs. McCord with- 
drawing. Furthermore, we are all fallible crea- 
tures, and it might be possible that they are right 
and we are wrong. At any rate, I counsel modera- 
tion and patience.” 

As she closed a shade of disappointment passed 
over the faces of the first speakers. Others were 
also encouraged to express themselves. Mrs. L., 
a little woman of strong independent proclivities, 
and with a good deal of spirit, said: 

“Well, it is my opinion that it is about time 
something were done to stir this old fossilized 
85 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


Church. We have not had a soul converted in 
the last twenty-five years that anybody has ever 
heard of. We seem to be wrapped up in our- 
selves, and spend most of our time in mutual 
compliments and admiration. Anybody with an 
enthusiastic nature will soon cool ofi here. There 
is certainly refrigerating power enough in the 
Church of the Upper Strata to prevent immediate 
decomposition, and, of course, that counts for 
something. For my part, I hope that unknown 
man will come again and stir up the dry bones. 
And as for the newsboys and their poor mothers, 
I hope Mrs. McCord will bring a street-car load 
of them next Sabbath, and seat them in the 
front pews. It would give variety and zest to 
the service.” 

At the close of these remarks there was a gen- 
eral stir among the ladies; some were laughing, 
and some were frowning. The president rapped 
on the table for order. Three or four sprang to 
their feet to speak, though hitherto all the speak- 
ers had remained sitting. Some one in the com- 
pany then started the familiar hymn, 

“ Blest be the tie that binds 
Our hearts in Christian love.” 


86 


A DISCUSSION IN THE LADIES’ CLUB. 


This, though slightly grotesque, had the effect 
of quieting the excitement a little, when Mrs. S. 
delivered herself as follows: 

“Ladies, I believe something is going to hap- 
pen; the signs are appearing; there is a noise in 
the air. The Lord is calling this Church to do 
something for the world. It has been working 
chiefly for itself hitherto. I say ‘Amen’ to all 
Mrs. McCord is doing, and I stand by Dr. Good- 
fellow. That unknown man said something about 
the Master not ‘coming to bring peace, but a 
sword.’ May be the ‘sword,’ or something else, 
is even now hanging over this Church.” 

These remarks did not tend to quiet things 
very much. Some of the ladies were now in tears ; 
others were shaking their heads and whispering 
aloud to each other. Mrs. Patterson asked the 
servant to lower the windows and let in some fresh 
air. Some one suggested that it might be well 
to pray a little before they proceeded any further. 
The president said: “A good suggestion. Will 
some lady please pray?” All bowed their heads, 
but no one prayed. Perhaps not a member of 
the Club had ever prayed publicly in her life. 
Portunately, however, a good Methodist sister, 
87 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


who was visiting a member, and had an invitation 
to come with her to the meeting that afternoon, 
relieved the embarrassment. When it became 
evident that no one would respond to the presi- 
dent’s request, her friend nudged her, and said: 
“Do praj and help us out of this plight. You 
know how ; we do n’t.” She kneeled and offered 
this brief petition: 

“Dear Lord, these good sisters seem to have 
come to the ‘parting of the way.’ They are very 
much divided. They do n’t seem to know which 
way to go. Some feeling is manifested. They 
seem to be approaching a crisis in their Church. 
Thou art evidently calling them to something bet- 
ter; it may be to unknown sacrifice, or to un- 
selfish consecration to Christly work. Dear Lord, 
temper their variant spirits; guide them to right 
conclusions, and bless them with the mind of love, 
gentleness, and forbearance that characterized the 
blessed Savior. Amen.” 

Just as the prayer closed, Mrs. McCord en- 
tered the room. The president was a little con- 
fused. The ladies looked at each other. The 
situation was certainly embarrassing. Finally, 
some one suggested that the Club would be pleased 
88 


A DISCUSSION IN THE LADIES’ CLUB. 


to hear a few words from Mrs. McCord concern- 
ing her new work. The ladies were too polite 
to interpose any objection. So, without knowing 
what had just taken place in the meeting, Mrs. 
McCord gave a brief and very tender report of 
her recent experience. She told of the prayer- 
meeting and the pastor’s address ; of her im- 
pression and decision ; of the dinner for the twelve 
newsboys; of her visit to their homes; of their 
poverty and the general destitution of the people 
in the “Wicked Ward;” of the death and burial 
of little Jammie McFadden; of the great peace 
that had come to her in this new work; and of 
her determination to go forward as the Master 
might open the way and direct. She would not 
neglect any work in her own Church that she had 
heretofore been doing ; she would not give up her 
place among her many dear friends with whom 
she had been associated so long; she did not ask 
any of the ladies to join her in her new field, only 
as the Master might call them; she hoped she 
might still have their love, their sympathy, and 
their prayers. 

When she concluded, most of the ladies were 
in tears. Those who had spoken so sharply against 
89 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


her would gladly have recalled what they had said ; 
but Mrs. Patterson seemed unmoved. After coolly 
but politely thanking her for the favor she had 
conferred upon the Club, she declared the meet- 
ing adjourned. 


XI. 


THE UNKNOWN MAN VISITS THE DIAMOND 
SALOON. 

Superstition, to some extent, characterizes all 
men. Who will not avoid, if possible, looking at 
the new moon the first time, over the left shoul- 
der, or starting on a journey on Friday? Protest 
as much as we may that we do not believe in 
such things, it is nevertheless true that most per- 
sons are the subjects of superstitious fears. The 
hooting of a night-owl, the howling of a dog when 
some one is sick — in short, any unusual noise in 
any unusual place sends a shiver through most 
of us. This is easily explained by the fact of 
man’s instinctive belief in the presence of super- 
natural forces and beings in the world. It is 
only when one yields to excessive superstitious 
fear that fanaticism waits in one’s path. 

There were not a few persons in the Church 
of the Upper Strata who were very strangely im- 
pressed by the sudden appearance of the Unknown 
Man, and by what he said. Some went so far 
91 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


as to suggest that he might be a prophet sent to 
warn them of approaching calamity, though what 
it might be they could not conjecture. They were 
in prosperous circumstances. Everything was 
moving along to their satisfaction, judging by 
superficial appearances. But there was a nameless 
feeling among a number that something was go- 
ing to happen out of the ordinary, and that the 
appearance of the Unknown Man might be a warn- 
ing. And they were confirmed in this appre- 
hension by an examination and study of the words 
of Holy Writ which he had uttered, many of 
them, with the aid of their concordances, having 
sought out these passages in their Bibles. 

A few days later this mysterious character 
made his appearance in the Diamond Saloon, in 
the “ Wicked Ward.” This was the largest, and, 
if possible, the most disreputable place of resort 
in the entire ward. There were connected with 
it a wine-room and various gambling devices. 
Both sexes, especially of the young, were enticed 
thither. Many mothers’ hearts were broken, and 
their lives clouded, by the wrecks that were made 
in this saloon. It would seem that thi$ Unknown 
Man, being in search of the pivotal points of in- 
92 


THE DIAMOND SALOON . 


fluence, both for good and evil, among the high 
and low, had learned of this place. So one night, 
about ten o’clock, he entered the Diamond. There 
were perhaps fifty people present, among them 
quite a sprinkling of girls from fifteen to twenty 
years old. Some were standing in front of the 
bar, drinking; others were sitting at tables, play- 
ing cards or throwing dice. All were more or less 
intoxicated. Considerable loud talking prevailed, 
with an occasional ribald song. The entrance of 
the stranger was not observed, or at least attracted 
no attention. Looking over the room and listen- 
ing for a few moments, he rapped several times 
upon the counter of the bar, which brought com- 
parative quiet. Then, moving toward the tables, 
he mounted a chair, and in a clear, distinct voice 
spoke as follows : 

“Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging: 
and whosoever is deceived thereby is not wise. 
Who hath woe ? who hath sorrow ? who hath con- 
tentions? who hath babbling? who hath wounds 
without cause? who hath redness of eyes? They 
that tarry long at the wine; they that go to 
seek mixed wine. Look not thou upon the wine 
when it is red, when it giveth its color in the cup, 
93 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


when it moveth itself aright. At the last it biteth 
like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder. Thine 
eyes shall behold strange women, and thine heart 
shall utter perverse things. Yea, thou shalt be 
as he that lieth down in the midst of the sea, or 
as he that lieth upon the top of a mast. ... Woe 
unto him that giveth his neighbor drink, that put- 
test thy bottle to him, and makest him drunken, 
that thou mayest look on his nakedness. Thou art 
filled with shame for glory ; drink thou and let thy 
foreskin be uncovered ; the cup of the Lord’s right 
hand shall be turned unto thee, and shameful 
spewing shall be on thy glory. ... Be not de- 
ceived; neither fornicators, nor adulterers, nor 
effeminate, nor abusers of themselves, nor thieves, 
nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor ex- 
tortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.” 

“There, that ’s enough, old man ; this hain’t no 
prayer-meetin’,” said one, adding a nameless ex- 
pletive. 

“Put him out! Put him out!” cried a half 
dozen others, as they moved toward him with 
threatening aspect. 

“Let him alone !” shouted several others. 
“This is a free country, and every man has a right 
94 


THE DIAMOND SALOON. 


to express his own opinion. Go on! Go on, old 
man, until you \e spoke your piece.” 

This seemed to quiet the more boisterous fel- 
lows, and they sat down again. Then the speaker 
walked toward the door, but before going out, he 
turned to the motley crowd and said: 

“The day of the Lord will come as a thief 
in the night, in the which the heavens shall pass 
away with a great noise, and the elements shall 
melt with fervent heat; the earth also and the 
works that are therein shall be burned up. See- 
ing, therefore, that all these things shall be dis- 
solved, what manner of persons ought ye to be in 
all holy conversation and godliness, looking unto 
the coming of the day of God, wherein the heavens 
being on fire shall be dissolved, and the elements 
shall melt with fervent heat.” 

The cry was renewed: “Put him out ! Put him 
out! We Ve had enough of that preachin’,” and 
suiting the action to the word, a dozen sprang to 
their feet, and started towards the door. As 
many others jumped from their seats, and cried: 
“No you do n’t. Let him alone. He *s all right. 
Sit down! Sit down, you crooks,” and stepping 
between the belligerent fellows, who were intent 
95 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


on putting him out, and the speaker, they pushed 
them back toward their seats at the tables. This 
was the signal for a general drunken melee. Blow 
after blow followed; chairs began to fly through 
the air; tables were overturned; beer-mugs were 
flying like bullets in a battle; girls were scream- 
ing; the lights were turned down, and the doors 
were locked. In the midst of the uproar the Un- 
known Man left the place, without any one seeing 
him, excepting a policeman who met him at the 
door just as he was going out. Supposing he had 
something to do with the row within, he put him 
under arrest, and marched him off to the nearest 
police station, where he was bound over to appear 
at the municipal court the next morning under the 
charge of disorderly conduct. Long before the 
officer returned to the Diamond, all the inmates 
had disappeared through a side door, and made 
good their escape. 

The Unknown Man appeared at the municipal 
court the next morning at nine o’clock. The judge 
questioned the officer concerning the arrest: 

Judge — “What did you see this man doing?” 

Policeman — “Nothin’, sir.” 

J udge — “What did you arrest him for ?” 

96 


TEE DIAMOND SALOON . 


Policeman — “Because, your honor, he was 
coming out of a saloon when there was a general 
row inside.” 

Judge — “You thought, then, he ought to have 
staid inside and joined in the row, I suppose, and 
so you arrested him.” 

Policeman — “No, your honor, I thought he 
was running away from the fight inside.” 

Judge — “Well, I would think that was a very 
wise thing to do. Did you arrest any of the fel- 
lows that were engaged in the disturbance?” 

Policeman — “No, sir, your honor; you see I 
had to bring this man to the station, and before 
I got back the others were all gone, and the place 
was closed.” 

Judge — “Well, it seems to me, Mr. Officer, 
that you should remember that you are paid for 
arresting persons seen violating the law, and not 
a man coming quietly out of a saloon.” Then 
turning toward the stranger, he inquired, “Has 
the accused anything to say?” Whereupon he 
arose and with a very decided tone, but gentle 
manner, albeit, answered on this wise: 

“The Son of man is come to seek and to save . 
that which is lost. How think ye ? If a man have 
7 97 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


an hundred sheep and one of them be gone astray, 
doth he not leave the ninety and nine, and goeth 
into the mountains, and seeketh that which is gone 
astray? And if so be that he find it, verily I say 
unto you, he rejoiceth more of that sheep than of 
the ninety and nine that went not astray.” . . . 
“He that judgeth me is the Lord. Therefore, 
judge nothing before the time until the Lord come, 
who will bring to light the hidden things of dark- 
ness, and will make manifest the counsels of the 
hearts, and then shall every man have praise of 
God.” 

When he had concluded the judge said: “You 
are discharged, my friend. Clerk, return to this 
man his deposit for appearance, and report this 
officer to the mayor for arresting a peaceable citi- 
zen engaged in no misdemeanor.” 

Such a scene had never before occurred in this 
court. The judge and all the officers and spec- 
tators listened with the most profound attention 
to words that had a peculiar sound in that place. 
As the strange man retired, all eyes followed him, 
and some wondered if he might not be John the 
Baptist, risen from the dead, or one of the proph- 
ets of Israel, or the Son of man himself. 

98 


XII. 


A DINNER TO THE MOTHERS OF THE TWELVE 
NEWSBOYS. 

Carrying out still further the teaching of the 
Master, Mrs. McCord invited the mothers of the 
twelve newsboys, and her own regular washer- 
woman, to dinner at her house. The effect was 
magical. These mothers and wives seemed ten 
years younger when they arrived at 777 Upper 
Grade Avenue. Their appearance surprised even 
Mrs. McCord. They were neatly attired in plain 
material. Evidently they had purchased new 
dresses for the occasion. The fine home and yard, 
with the flowers, pictures, and music, were a reve- 
lation to them. The dinner was composed of the 
substantial of the market, nothing being on the 
table for mere show. The natural politeness and 
winning manner of the hostess relieved the guests 
from all embarrassment. Somehow they felt that 
she was their friend. Their effort to be courteous, 
and the gentleness with which they addressed each 
other and Mrs. McCord, indicated most clearly 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


that either they had seen better days, or that a new 
inspiration had come to them, which evoked the 
womanly instinct of tenderness and love, and put 
them on their best behavior. It need scarcely be 
said that they enjoyed beyond description the kind- 
ness of Mrs. McCord. But it is a question whether 
their enjoyment exceeded that of their hostess. 
When they reached their homes that afternoon, 
a general cleaning up of each habitation followed. 
When the newsboys arrived in the evening they 
scarcely recognized their quarters as the same they 
had left in the morning. Their suppers were an 
improvement over the ordinary in both quantity 
and quality, Mrs. McCord having supplied each 
guest with a good-sized basket, well filled, to take 
home with her. These worthy women performed 
work, some for the sweat-shop contractors, some 
as washerwomen, some as scrubbers and house- 
cleaners. It was noted that their work after this 
Was much better done than usual. Heretofore 
they had wrought in a sour and angry spirit ; now 
they mingled songs with their daily toil. The 
“dinner” was an epoch in their lives. It was an 
oasis in the barren wilderness of their poverty 
and isolation. It was more : it was a pivotal point 
100 


A DINNER TO THE MOTHERS. 


in their careers. From this time forth, life was to 
have a new meaning to them. Hitherto they had 
simply existed ; henceforth they were to live. 
They might not have much more to live on, but 
they would make a better use of what they had. 
Most of all, they would be relieved of that op- 
pressive isolation which crushed out all their 
humane and finer impulses, and begot within a 
hatred for all other people in better circumstances. 
Now somebody was thinking about them, and try- 
ing to make life worth living, and they would 
prove themselves worthy of such thought and 
kindness. 

The wildest animal can be tamed, if taken in 
time, when it discovers that its keeper is contrib- 
uting to its happiness, even though that happiness 
be on the lowest plane of animality. Ferocious 
natures always respond to kindness. Many rich 
possibilities lie unseen under thorns, and briers, 
and thistles, that can be brought to the surface by 
kindly treatment. The right recognition of human 
relationships, with symapthetic helpfulness, will 
solve all questions and adjust all wrongs. When 
will the teachers, and leaders, and employers of 
men learn this truth ? 


101 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


Dr. Goodfellow had said to Mrs. McCord that 
he knew no reason why she might not retain her 
place in society and prosecute her special work; 
and she had announced at the Ladies’ Club that 
she did not intend to give up the numerous friends 
with whom she had so long been associated. In 
pursuance of this determination she gave a large 
reception to her friends, as had been her custom 
for years. About four hundred invitations were 
issued. They were all gladly accepted. Mrs. 
McCord’s former receptions had been character- 
ized by the great abundance of everything usual 
on such occasions in high life. The expense never 
fell short of a thousand dollars. On the present 
occasion she had nothing but what was necessary 
for the comfort and real enjoyment of her guests. 
The expense was reduced to a little over two hun- 
dred dollars. The amount saved was applied to 
her work among the poor. The invited guests 
were unusually prompt in coming at the appointed 
hour. No little curiosity obtained to know just 
who might be there, and just what might be the 
character of the function. Indeed, some knowing 
ones had ventured the prediction that the mothers 
of the newsboys would be among the number, and 
102 


A DINNER TO THE MOTHERS. 


that the newsboys would serve the refreshments 
and otherwise wait upon the guests. But Mrs. 
McCord was guilty of no such eccentricity. She 
was the same gentle, cultivated, natural lady in 
all her movements that she had always been. The 
refreshments were appropriate, albeit some things 
that were more for show than anything else were 
conspicuous by their absence. The piano and 
vocal music was of the highest amateur order; 
but the orchestra, for which she had usually paid 
one hundred dollars, was omitted. The afternoon 
was spent in delightful social intercourse. No 
reference was made by Mrs. McCord to her new 
departure, though small groups of ladies, in dif- 
ferent parts of the large parlors, held undertone 
conversations on the subject, and some thought 
that the affair had been given in part to afford her 
an opportunity to report her experience. But she 
was not that kind of a reformer. Her work could 
speak for itself. The guests repaired to their 
homes with a higher regard for their hostess than 
ever before. 


103 


XIII. 

GREAT FIRE IN THE CITY OF CHATTAHOOCHE. 

On Sunday night, Dr. Goodfellow took for his 
text these words of St. Peter: “Seeing then that 
all these things shall be dissolved, what manner of 
persons ought ye to be in all holy conversation 
and godliness, looking for and hasting unto the 
coming of the day of God, wherein the heavens 
being on fire shall be dissolved, and the elements 
shall melt with fervent heat.” He was not sensa- 
tional, but very eloquent and impressive. His 
theme gave him a fine opportunity for his special 
gift in oratory. The Church of the Upper Strata 
was crowded to the door; for all who had heard 
the subject announced in the morning were anx- 
ious to hear this able preacher on such a theme. 
He pictured in most glowing colors the confla- 
gration in the last day of the material world, with 
the “new heavens and the new earth” that were 
to follow, and solemnly exhorted his hearers to 
live “in all holy conversation and godliness.” The 
104 


GREAT FIRE IN GHATTAHOOCEE . 


sermon occupied more than an hour in delivery, 
but the interest of the congregation was close, and 
as he approached the end intense. The benedic- 
tion was pronounced at 9.30. Just as the people 
reached the street they heard the cry of “Fire! 
Fire! Fire!” from all directions, while the great 
court-house bell was pealing forth in solemn tones 
the warning of an approaching calamity. The 
great city was on fire, and in a few hours the mag- 
nificent Church of the Upper Strata and the 
homes of many of its members were in ashes. 

Nearly all the large cities of the world have 
been swept by fire one or more times in their 
history. In A. D. 64, the best half of Rome was 
reduced to ashes by order of Nero, the fire lasting 
eight days. In 1666 the great London fire oc- 
curred, lasting three days, and devastating four 
hundred and thirty-six acres, with a loss of $53,- 
650,000. In 1736, and again in 1862, St. Peters- 
burg was nearly destroyed by fire. In 1752, Mos- 
cow was partly burned, eighteen thousand homes 
going up in smoke. Again, in 1812, the Russians 
fired the city to drive out Napoleon and his army. 
The flames continued for five days ; nine-tenths of 
the city was destroyed; thirty thousand houses 
105 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


were burned, with a loss of $150,000,000. In 
1729 a great fire occurred in Constantinople, with 
a loss of twelve thousand buildings and seven thou- 
sand lives. In 1822, Canton was nearly destroyed. 
In 1845 a large part of Pittsburg went down under 
the sweep of a conflagration. In 1851 more than 
three-fourths of the city of St. Louis was burned. 
In 1866, Portland, Maine, was devastated, two 
hundred acres being laid in ashes. In 1872 the 
heart of Boston was consumed. In 1871 the 
greatest fire of modern times occurred in Chicago. 
The fire continued for two days. Seventeen thou- 
sand four hundred and fifty buildings were de- 
stroyed; two hundred and fifty lives were lost; 
nearly one hundred thousand persons were made 
homeless and houseless ; valuation of property de- 
stroyed, $196,000,000. The space covered by the 
devastation was 2,124 acres, being five miles in 
length and from one to one and a half miles in 
width. 

There had been several months of extremely 
hot and dry weather preceding the great fire in 
Chattahooche, so that everything was ready for 
the match. To favor the devastation, the wind 
was blowing a gale. The wooden buildings added 
106 


GREAT FIRE IN CHATTAHOOCHE . 


to the rapid spread of the flames. The wind car- 
ried sparks and burning shingles in advance, start- 
ing a dozen conflagrations at different places 
simultaneously. Onward the fiery wave swept, 
leveling block after block. Solid granite build- 
ings crumbled to dust. Iron frames twisted and 
curled like tangled brush. Street-car rails were 
torn up and bent like hooks. Flames issued from 
the windows of tall buildings on either side of the 
street, and met and embraced in mid-air like liv- 
ing serpents, then darted upward to the clouds of 
smoke, or anon downward to the hot earth. High 
in the air enormous sheets of flame instantane- 
ously appeared, which spread and settled like a 
great cloth over scores of houses, barely giving 
the inhabitants time to escape. Great, balloon- 
like masses of fire swept through the air, and sud- 
denly descended to the earth, like water-spouts, 
destroying, as they exploded, every trace of hu- 
man life and property. These remarkable phe- 
nomena were explained by the liberation of vast 
quantities of carbonic acid from union with other 
elements, as a result of the intense heat. An eye- 
witness says: 

“From the roof of a tall warehouse to which 
107 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


the writer climbed, the sight was one of unparal- 
leled sublimity and terror. He was above almost 
the whole fire. He could feel the heat and smoke 
and hear the maddened Babel of sounds, and it re- 
quired but little imagination to believe one’s self 
looking over the adamantine bulwarks of hell, 
into the bottomless pit. The faces in the crowd 
could be seen on the streets below, but not their 
bodies. All faces were white and upturned. Far 
away, indeed for miles around, could be seen, 
ringed by a circle of red light, the sea of house- 
tops, broken by spires and tall chimneys. In the 
eastward was the black angry lake. 

“The brute creation was crazed. The horses, 
maddened by the heat and noise, and irritated by 
falling sparks, neighed and screamed, and roared 
and kicked, and bit each other, or stood with 
drooping tails and rigid legs, ears laid back, wild 
'with amazement, shivering as with cold. Dogs 
ran hither and thither, howling dismally. When 
there was a lull in the roaring of the fire and wind, 
far-off dogs could be heard baying, and cocks 
crowing, at the unusual light. Flocks of beau- 
tiful pigeons wheeled up aimlessly, circled blindly, 
and fell into the raging fire beneath ! At a bird- 
108 


GREAT FIRE IN CHATTAHOOCHE . 


fancier’s store, the cries of his imprisoned pets 
sounded like human wailings as the suffocating 
flames reached them. 

“The people were mad. They crowded upon 
frail coigns of vantage, as fences and high side- 
walks, which fell beneath their weight, and hurled 
them bruised and bleeding into the dust, and were 
trampled under foot by the surging crowd. Seized 
with wild and causeless panic, they surged to- 
gether, backward and forward, in the narrow 
streets, cursing, threatening, imploring, fighting 
to get free. Liquor flowed like water; for the 
saloons were broken open and despoiled, and men 
on all sides were seen frenzied with drink. They 
smashed windows with their naked hands, and 
with bloody fingers rifled till and shelf and cellar, 
fighting viciously for the spoils of their forage. 
Women, hollow-eyed and brazen-faced, with filthy 
drapery tied over them, moved here and there, 
scolding, stealing, fighting, laughing at the beau- 
tiful and splendid crash of walls and falling roofs. 
Everywhere dust, smoke, flame, heat, thunder of 
falling walls, crackle of fire, hissing of water, 
panting of engines, shouts of firemen, braying of 
trumpets, wind, tumult, and uproar. No wonder 
109 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


many thought the world, was coming to an end 
and the judgment-day at hand.” 

No pen can describe the horror of that night. 
People flocked before the fire like sheep driven 
to the slaughter. The weather was bleak and cold, 
and the wind was blowing furiously. And there, 
in the darkness of the night, on the houseless 
prairies, delicate women tried to sleep with their 
babies clasped to their bosoms, or moaned in un- 
speakable anguish, longing for the coming of the 
day, and yet dreading its dawn. One would think 
that such scenes of distress would soften the hearts 
of the most obdurate ; yet even there armed 
patrols were needed to guard the helpless from 
robbery and the baser passion of brutes in human 
form. Not only were houses broken open and 
pillaged, but assault, arson, and murder were not 
infrequent. Vigilant committees were organized, 
who promptly disposed of the culprits that were 
caught, by hanging or shooting. In some cases 
maddened citizens fell upon the miscreants, and 
beat them to death on the streets. 

The foreging is the darkest side of the picture 
of this great calamity. It has a brighter side, 
which relieves the scene somewhat. It was the 
110 


GREAT FIRE IN CHATTAHOOCHE . 


occasion for the outbursting of sympathy and 
practical helpfulness that points to the “divinity 
that is within” many men. Nearly every city, 
town, and village in the United States immediately 
came to the relief of the stricken city. Besides, 
every nation in Europe, including crowned heads, 
responded with most gratifying promptness and 
liberality. England contributed $500,000. Some 
gifts came from the distant Orient. 


Ill 


XIV. 


JENNIE PATTERSON LOST IN THE GREAT FIRE. 

Mr. McCord suffered but little by the fire. 
His fine residence was outside of the burned dis- 
trict, and his large factory was in the suburbs. 
All he lost was his city office, which was covered 
by insurance. His business did not suffer even a 
temporary suspension, but indeed increased rap- 
idly during the year. But many of the members 
of Dr. Goodfellow’s Church suffered largely. 
Some lost everything, so that the question of re- 
building their church edifice was necessarily post- 
poned. 

Mr. Patterson suffered considerably. Both 
his business-house and residence were destroyed. 
But having large insurance on each, he immedi- 
ately proceeded to rebuild, while his business was 
carried on in a temporary place. But he and his 
wife met with a loss that memorable night which 
can never be appraised by material things. They 
had left their only child, Jennie, at home with 
112 


LOST IN THE GREAT FIRE. 

the servant while they went to church. Before 
they reached their home, returning, their beauti- 
ful residence was in flames. The servant had run 
with J ennie to the street, and the two were caught 
by the stream of people in flight from the fire, 
which seemed to pursue them like an avenging 
Nemesis, and drove them along, they knew not 
whither. In the excitement Jennie was lost. 
When the servant found her way to Mrs. Mc- 
Cord’s, the next morning, where Mrs. Patterson 
was stopping, she startled her by reporting that 
Jennie had become separated from her the night 
before in the fleeing crowd, and that she had not 
the remotest idea where she was, thus confirming 
the harrowing fears that had haunted Mr. and 
Mrs. Patterson all night long. Mrs. Patterson 
was prostrated with grief, and her husband was 
temporarily unfitted for business. Being their 
only child, they were greatly attached to her. 
And well they might be ; for she was an unusually 
pretty, bright girl. Her general form was well- 
proportioned and graceful; her eyes were a soft 
sky-blue, lustrous and penetrating ; her hair 
auburn, flowing in beautiful waves over her back ; 
the expression of her face had about it all the 
8 113 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


innocence, sweetness, and intelligence of a girl of 
her age. Many children were lost during that 
awful night, and hundreds of parents were frantic 
with grief and anxiety. It was impossible to ob- 
tain any information concerning them ; the police 
department was deranged, the military force was 
busy, and everything, for the present at least, was 
in confusion and chaos. The parents of Jennie 
could not tell whether she had been lost, stolen, 
kidnaped, decoyed, burned in the fire, or trodden 
to death by the maddened crowds. Indeed, it 
would have been some relief to know that she was 
dead. Of course they reported her to the police 
headquarters, with full description, and also ad- 
vertised in the papers*, offering a liberal reward 
for her return, or for any information concerning 
her, whether dead or alive. But the weary days 
came and went with no tidings from the lost dar- 
ling. 

The “Wicked Ward” was only scorched a little 
by the fire. The newsboys were reaping a harvest 
from the increased sale of papers caused by the 
great calamity. Mrs. McCord found a little time, 
after devoting herself to the relief and comfort 
of her friends who had suffered, to look after her 
114 


LOST IN THE GREAT FIRE. 


new field of opportunity. Desiring to hold a pub- 
lic meeting, she sought out and rented a hall large 
enough to accommodate about three hundred per- 
sons. Then she had printed two thousand little 
circulars containing the following notice: 

“A meeting will be held in Oak Hall next 
Sunday at three o’clock P. M. to consider what 
can be done to improve the homes of the people 
in the ‘Wicked Ward.’ All fathers and mothers 
are kindly invited to be present. Good music, 
and short addresses will be made by several speak- 
ers interested in the people.” 

These were put into the hands of the eleven 
newsboys to be distributed the Saturday preceding 
the meeting. 

Dr. Goodfellow’s people were very much 
broken up by the fire, as indeed were most of the 
congregations within the burned district. He was 
therefore at liberty to use his time as he might 
think best. And being so much interested in Mrs. 
McCord’s experiment, for which he was mainly 
responsible, he determined to assist her all he 
could. So he engaged to attend the meeting an- 
nounced, and also to hold a service at night in the 
same place. Indeed, he was no little troubled as 
115 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 

to what his duty in the future might be. While 
he had a most desirable pastorate in many ways, 
with a salary of $3,000 a year, he was by no 
means satisfied with the result of his labors. His 
mind was broad, his sympathy genuine and pro- 
found, his love for, and devotion to, the Master 
supreme. This was only his second charge. He 
was young and unmarried. His life work was all 
before him. His superior training in college, and 
his extensive foreign travel, had not in the least 
weakened his conviction that the Christian Church 
was delinquent in its duty towards the lower strata 
of society. Recent occurrences during the great 
fire had confirmed him in the belief that there was 
a menagerie of caged animals, submerged in this 
stratum, that only awaited the opening of the 
doors to precipitate a conflict whose consequences 
might be most appalling. His study of the Man 
of Nazareth had left the vital conviction deeply 
imbedded in his mind that He alone could lift 
these oppressed people, whether their condition 
was their own fault or the fault of others; and 
that, therefore, He should be introduced to them, 
and His love and power to save and elevate made 
known and applied. It was manifest that they did 
116 


LOST IN THE GREAT FIRE. 


not, and perhaps would not, come to the churches. 
The churches, possibly not as at present organ- 
ized and operated, with their sectarian rivalries 
and selfish limitations, must go to them ; go in the 
form of incarnated love, sympathy, and helpful- 
ness, go into their homes, mingle with their chil- 
dren, counsel and encourage to better living, 
cleaner homes, and cleaner lives. Whether he 
should devote himself directly to this work, or re- 
main with his present congregation and seek to 
interest them in it, was the question that was caus- 
ing him no little unrest. Manifestly he was at a 
crisis in his career as a young minister who had 
before him a brilliant future. To remain where 
he was meant $3,000 a year, with an increase 
whenever he desired it; a large, fashionable, and 
wealthy congregation ; the best social advantages 
in the city; and three months for travel abroad 
every year. To go into the other field meant — 
well, it was yet unexplored, and must be entered 
and cultivated by faith in Him. What will the 
decision be ? 


117 


XV. 


THE UNKNOWN MAN APPEARS IN THE PREACH- 
ERS MEETING. 

Once a week the pastors of a prominent de- 
nomination of Chattahooche met for edification 
and recreation. The custom was to have an essay 
on some subject of supposed interest read and dis- 
cussed. There were a number of highly-learned 
men among these clergymen. Themes of pro- 
found import were often presented, such as “Sub- 
liminal Consciousness,” “Platonic Love for God,” 
“The Moral Condition of the Inhabitants of 
Mars,” “How Many Isaiahs — One or Three ?” “Is 
Moses a Fiction or a Fact?” “The Language to 
be Used in Heaven,” “Is the Ultimate Atom at 
Rest or in Action?” “Pagan Survivals in Modern 
Theology,” and others of like character. The 
discussion of these themes, being reported in the 
daily papers, had attracted attention and evoked 
some unfriendly criticism as to its fitness and util- 
ity. Indeed, some very good and intelligent peo- 
ple had gone so far as to suggest that the time 
118 


UNKNOWN IN PREACHERS’ MEETING. 


spent in that kind of recreation might be employed 
to better advantage; but they were usually listed 
among those unfortunate persons who were classi- 
fied as “back numbers.” At the current weekly 
meeting of this Ministerial Association, the Rev. 
Dr. W. read a paper, characterized by deep re- 
search and fine rhetorical finish, on “Evolution 
as Applied to the Origin and Nature of Those 
Superior Intelligences Known as Angels.” At its 
conclusion, the usual applause was manifested by 
general clapping of hands. Silence, profound and 
almost painful, ensued for several minutes, all 
appearing dazed by the masterly presentation of 
such a lofty theme. Finally, one after another 
of those whose standing and ability gave them the 
right to lead off in discussion, arose and ventured 
some remarks, chiefly commendatory of the paper 
and the ability of the writer. All agreed that 
when Dr. W. was on the program they “expected 
to hear something of unusual interest, presented 
in a masterly way.” At a point where the dis- 
cussion seemed to lag a little, a stranger, who had 
listened with marked interest, arose and asked 
permission to speak, which was granted by the 
chairman. No one knew him but Dr. Goodfellow. 

119 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


He at once recognized him as the Unknown Man 
who had spoken in his church a few weeks before. 
Without any introduction the stranger proceeded 
as follows: 

“The word of the Lord came unto me saying, 
Go thou, O son of man. I have set thee a watch- 
man unto the house of Israel ; therefore thou shalt 
hear the word at my mouth, and warn them from 
me. When I say unto the wicked, O wicked man, 
thou shalt surely die; if thou dost not speak to 
warn the wicked from his way, that wicked man 
shall die in his iniquity; but his blood will I re- 
quire at thine hand. Nevertheless, if thou warn 
the wicked of his way to turn from it; if he do 
not turn from his way, he shall die in his iniquity ; 
but thou hast delivered thy soul. Therefore, O 
thou son of man, speak unto the house of Israel; 
thus speak ye, saying, If our transgressions and 
our sins be upon us, and we pine away in them, 
how should we then live? Say unto them, As I 
live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in 
the death of the wicked ; but that the wicked turn 
from his way and live ; turn ye, turn ye from your 
evil ways ; for why will ye die, O house of Israel ?” 

“And I, brethren, when I came to you, came 
120 


UNKNOWN IN PREACHERS’ MEETING. 


not with excellency of speech or of wisdom, de- 
claring unto you the testimony of God. For I de- 
termined not to know anything among you, save 
Jesus Christ and him crucified. And my speech 
and my preaching was not with enticing words of 
man’s wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit 
and of power; that your faith should not stand in 
the wisdom of men, but in the power of God. . . . 
God forbid that I should glory save in the cross 
of our Lord Jesus Christ, by whom the world is 
crucified unto me, and ” 

At this point a brother rose to a question of 
order. The chairman asked what it was. “The 
speaker has consumed all his time,” he said, “but 
I move to extend the time, that he may finish his 
remarks.” 

“I second the motion,” came from a half dozen 
voices. The president was about to put the motion 
to a vote when a brother cried, “Hold on, Mr. 
Chairman. I do n’t think we are ready for that 
motion yet. I am opposed to it. This stranger 
has abused the hospitality of this meeting. He 
has reflected upon this learned body of Christian 
ministers. If his remarks mean anything, they 
are a reproof to us. It does not become a stranger 
[121 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


to lecture men in this way who have been preach- 
ing all their lives. And, therefore, I am opposed 
to giving him any more time.” 

“Mr. President,” said another, “I hope we will 
give the stranger all the time he wants. He has 
simply repeated to us the Word of God, and if 
any brother thinks it is too personal for him, we 
had better change this body into a praver-meeting, 
and labor with him. The Word of the Lord is 
intended to try the hearts of men; and perhaps 
we preachers need to be tried sometimes as well 
as others. I hope the time will be extended, that 
the stranger may give us some more from the same 
book.” 

“Mr. President,” cried a half dozen voices. 

“Dr. S. has the floor,” said the chairman. 

Dr. S. proceeded to say: “Mr. President, the 
Good Book says there is a time for all things, and 
there is a time when it would be very proper to 
read or recite chapter after chapter from the 
Bible. But this morning we have been favored 
with a most remarkable paper on the highly-inter- 
esting subject, ‘Evolution as Applied to the Origin 
and Nature of Those Superior Intelligences 
Known as Angels.’ It is not often, sir, that we 
122 


UNKNOWN IN PREACHERS’ MEETING. 


are favored with such a remarkable paper. And 
I do not think it is fair, or in order, that any 
matter so foreign to the subject under consider- 
ation as what this strange brother has said, should 
be introduced. Further, it is unjust to Dr. W. to 
divert attention from his valuable paper.” 

“Mr. Chairman,” quietly suggested a brother 
of many years’ experience, and much esteemed by 
all, “with reference to the subject of the paper, 
I think all we know about the angels we obtain 
from the Bible. Now this strange brother may 
be an angel from heaven for aught I know, and 
Dr. W. may be an angel, but Paul says, ‘ Though 
we or an angel from heaven preach any other 
gospel unto you than that ye have received, let 
him be accursed.’ Now, if we can’t stand a few 
words from Ezekiel and Paul, such as the stranger 
has given us, without becoming sensitive, and 
fearing that we may lose something concerning 
the origin and nature of angels, as taught by 
evolution, I think we had better adjourn, and go 
home and start a revival-meeting; for it is my 
opinion, anyhow, that angels hover more about 
revival-meetings than they do about these preach- 
ers’ meetings.” 


123 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


“Amen ! Amen !” responded a dozen voices. 

“I move we adjourn/’ cried one. 

“Second the motion/’ said another. 

“I move to lay that on the table,” retorted a 
third. 

“Question ! Question ! Question !” all over the 
house. 

“The motion before you, brethren,” said the 
president, “is to lay the motion to adjourn on 
the table.” The vote was taken and prevailed. 
Then a vote was taken on the motion to extend 
the time for the stranger to finish his remarks, 
which also prevailed. But when they came to 
look for him, he was not in the room. He had 
finished his address, excepting four words, and had 
quietly retired just as the wrangle began. The 
dignified Doctors of Divinity looked as if they 
had been laboring for naught, or had been sold 
out at a very low price. They had been barking 
up a tree after the game was gone. So, the time 
of adjournment being at hand, the meeting was 
closed, and all went home to examine the Un- 
known Man’s speech, as contained in Ezekiel and 
Paul, and to read the balance of the chapters, 
especially those who were opposed to extending 
124 


UNKNOWN IN PREACHERS ’ MEETING. 


the time. But who could this strange man be? 
From whence did he come? What did he mean 
by this interruption ? W ere his remarks intended 
to be personal? Was this a message from God? 
They had heard of his visit to Dr. Goodfellow’s 
church and the Diamond Saloon, but had at- 
tributed it to the eccentricities of an unbalanced 
mind. Perhaps he might drop into one of their 
churches soon. Who was he, anyhow ? 


125 


XVI. 

FIRST MEETING IN THE “WICKED WARD.” 

The subject to be discussed at the meeting in 
Oak Hall was, “What can be Done to Improve 
the Home?” Its selection was premeditated, not 
accidental. However much the people might di- 
vide in opinion on other things, they would be 
united on the Home. This was the basis of so- 
ciety, the State, and the Church. Its improve- 
ment could not fail to interest every one, and to 
bring all classes together; whereas the announce- 
ment of a distinctively political or religious sub- 
ject would be limited in its scope, and divisive 
in its result. 

Mrs. McCord, while she had not been trained 
in any particular school of philosophy, religion, 
or reform, had an instinctive and common-sense 
theory of her own. She was of the opinion that 
differential points, in all reformatory efforts, 
should never be emphasized. Such a course al- 
ways creates antagonism, and widens the distance 
between classes and Churches. Points of agree- 
126 


MEETING IN THE WICKED WARD. 


ment should be sought and emphasized. With 
such a basis to stand upon and to start from, 
sympathy, mutual toleration, and co-operation 
would follow. The conservation of energy should 
obtain in all effort for the uplifting of men, as 
well as in the realm of physical dynamics. This 
is wise economy. The wasting of beneficent force 
is a violation of the highest law of the universe. 
Good men will have much to answer for in this 
regard. Tew, if any, are so depraved as to be 
utterly bereft of all that is good. Find the good, 
recognize its presence, and from this basic point 
work upward. There is some truth in every 
system of religion. The wise missionary will 
search for it, recognize it, adopt it, and say to 
his brother man: “On this we agree; let us walk 
together as far as we can. We will more likely 
see eye to eye, looking from a common view-point, 
than looking from our disagreements.” Obe- 
dience to what we know will unlock the unknown, 
and bring other truths within our vision. If the 
world is ever united in religious effort, it must 
be on this basis. “If any man wills to do His 
will, he shall know of the doctrine, whether it 
be of God.” The one talent of knowledge, how- 
127 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


ever small or imperfect, if honestly used, will as 
certainly yield increase as the five. The Church 
will be a weak institution just as long as it ac- 
centuates non-essentials and differences. The 
force spent in defending doctrines and customs, 
the belief or non-belief in which will neither open 
nor close the gates of heaven to any man, would, 
if rightly used, have pushed the world onward a 
thousand years nearer the millennium. What- 
ever, if any, may have been the justification for 
this enormous waste of energy in the past, the 
loud cry of the unreached millions for light, for 
help, for uplifting, and for God, though all do 
not know his name, demands a truce in the battle 
of antagonistic theories, and a united forward 
movement on the basis of the things on which 
we agree, flinging to the world our banner in- 
scribed, “The greatest of these is Love.” To per- 
sist in the course that now obtains is like a boy 
who begins the study of the multiplication-table, 
and, after mastering half a dozen columns, de- 
votes more time to the lines that divide the 
columns and the shape of the figures than to the 
remaining unmastered part of the table. 

This is a summary of Mrs. McCord’s unwrit- 
128 


MEETING IN THE WICKED WARD. 

ten philosophy. With this faith she called the 
Sunday afternoon meeting at Oak Hall, to con- 
sider “What can be Done to Improve the Home V 9 
The attendance was large; the hall was crowded. 
Nearly a dozen nationalities were represented. 
Mothers and wives predominated. It was ob- 
served that the eleven newsboys, with their 
mothers, were on the very front seats. Little 
Jammie McFadden’s father and mother, and the 
policeman who was present when Jammie died, 
were also among them. The Unknown Man oc- 
cupied a seat in a little recess where he would 
not be seen. Mrs. McCord, Dr. Goodfellow, and 
a choir of singers, were on the platform. Father 
Martini, a bright and well-preserved Catholic 
priest, was seen in the rear. Mrs. McCord ap- 
proached him, and very kindly invited him to a 
seat on the platform, which he accepted. She 
handed him a small Bible, and, in a spirit of 
gentle, loving authority, said, “Will you kindly 
read a psalm to the people V ’ He was somewhat 
taken aback, but to the surprise of all, including 
himself, and very much to the gratification of 
Mrs. McCord, he arose and read in a most im- 
pressive manner the ninety-first Psalm: “He that 
9 129 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High 
shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty. 

. Because thou hast made the Lord, which 
is my refuge, even the Most High, thy habitation, 
there shall no evil befall thee, neither shall any 
plague come nigh thy dwelling. He shall give 
his angels charge over thee, to keep thee in all 
thy ways.” 

Dr. Goodfellow followed with this brief 
prayer: 

“Dear Lather, these are thy people, thy chil- 
dren, created in thine image, the objects of thy 
love. Their condition in life is hard as compared 
with that of some of us. They are poorly paid 
for their work, and some of them have not as 
much work even as they can do. Their homes 
are very small, with scarcely any of the con- 
veniencies of life. Some of them may not have 
enough to eat. Mrs. McCord has come among 
them to see if something can not be done to im- 
prove their condition. Dear Father, help her 
while she talks, and help all these dear people 
to hear. May there come to all who are strug- 
gling so hard to keep body and soul together, 
fresh courage, higher inspiration, new ambition, 
130 


MEETING IN THE WICKED WARD. 


and a good hope that, by and by, all will have a 
home in the ‘house not made with hands, eternal 
in the heavens/ Amen.” 

All heads were bowed during the prayer. 
Many sought to hide the unbidden tear as the 
“Amen” was said. How much we are alike ! 
Thank the good Father for tears. How many they 
have saved, when all other means have failed! 
The choir then sang “O, think of the home over 
there.” 

Mrs. McCord delivered a loving, practical ad- 
dress on the “Home.” When properly built and 
managed, it was the fountain of all good. Its 
streams would bless society, the State, and the 
Church. It was a refuge for the laboring man 
and woman on their return from the weary toil 
of the day. It was the school for the children. 
She continued: “The good Master has sent me 
among you to help you improve your homes. Why 
he should do this I can not now understand; per- 
haps I will later on. I have a beautiful home of 
my own, and more than I need.” 

“She libs in heben wid de angels,” said one 
of the newsboys, out loud, who had been at her 
house. 


131 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


“Youse had better shut up youse face,” said 
Bud, “or I ’ll mop up dis floor wid youse.” 

Not recognizing the interruption, she pro- 
ceeded: “I want you to have better homes, more 
room, more furniture, paper and pictures on the 
walls, purer air and water, better food, and more 
of it. I will help you all I can to get these things. 
I want your landlords to improve your tenements 
and clean up the premises, and then you must 
try and keep them clean. I want the Board of 
Health to give you better sanitary conditions. 
I want the mayor and the city alderman to see 
that the streets, alleys, and back yards are kept 
clean; and finally, you should not forget that a 
good earthly home is the highest type of the 
heavenly home. I want you all to make for your- 
selves such homes here, and so to live on earth 
that, when your work here is done, you will be 
ready for the better home in heaven. What a 
contrast there will be between these earthly homes 
and the ‘house not made with hands, eternal in 
the heavens V Dear little Jammie McFadden went 
up to his heavenly home, just a few weeks ago, 
from one of the plainest of your homes here. 
If he could return this afternoon and talk to us, 
132 


MEETING IN THE WICKED WARD . 


what a story he could tell of the grandeur and 
beauty of that heavenly home! Now let us all 
work together to make good homes here, and to 
obtain a better home over there.” 

Following these loving counsels, Miss Adelia 
McCord stepped to the organ near the front of 
the platform, which caused a very perceptible 
commotion among the newsboys, several remark- 
ing, “Dare ’s de kid angel ; she ’s go’n’ ter sing 
ar song.” 

“Youse kids had better stop spoutin’ youse 
boxes now, or sumthin ’ll happen here,” said Bud, 
as he shook his fist in the direction of the inter- 
ruption. 

Adelia proceeded to sing: 

“ Home, home ; sweet, sweet home ; 

Be it ever so humble, there ’s no place like home. ,, 

The choir united in the chorus. When they 
came to the last verse, Mrs. McCord requested 
the congregation to join in the chorus. The ear- 
nest, coarse voices of the men, the squeaky tones 
of the women, and the discords of the children, 
produced a heterogeneous medley of sound that, 
under other circumstances, would have been ex- 
133 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


tremely comical ; but the upturned faces, the tear- 
ful eyes, and the honest effort to do the best they 
could, produced a most pathetic scene that will 
never be forgotten. Dr. Goodfellow followed with 
a few kind words, and announced that he would 
speak in the hall at 7.30 in the evening. 

The comments, as the people went home, were 
varied and interesting. Among the first was our 
friend, the policeman: “I belave in my soule that 
she ’s the holy Virgin Mary coom back to earth 
again. If any mon spakes a wooard ferninst her, 
I ’ll make anither soft place on the top of his 
pate,” swinging his club over his head somewhat 
ferociously. 

“She ’s a daisy,” exclaimed Goldbug, “and 
dat leetle rosebud sings like a kanary.” 

“She ’s a gude wooman, ond she makes me 
think o’ me ain mither in me ain bonnie coontrie,” 
said Jammie McFadden’s father, as a big tear 
stole slowly down his rough face, which he wiped 
away with the back of his brawny hand. “She 
was gude and kaind to my wee bairn when the 
gude Master took him awa’ over the hill; and I 
hae na’ forgot my promise ither, to mate the 
laddie over there.” 


134 


MEETING IN THE WICKED WARD. 


An old farmer, who was visiting some friends 
in the city, being at the meeting, was much stirred 
by what he had heard. “I kalkelate that she 
knows what she ’s talkin’ about,” he avowed to 
his friends as they walked homeward. “I reckon 
she ’s deliburated sumwhat considerable about 
hums and sich like. She made mee feel kinder 
humsick meself. I kinder wished me old woman 
had been a-sittin’ by my side. I sort a-felt as if 
I ’d like to kiss the old gal ag’in’, seein’ it ’s nigh 
onto a ’coon’s age since I perpe’rated anything uv 
that sort. I wonder ef she would n’t cum out to 
Mason’s skule-house, and exterpashuate to us in 
Koonsocket Holler. 1 fetch in a lode of hay every 
Saturday arternoon, and I would be ra’le glad 
to kunvey the lady out in my hag-riggin’.” 

Father Martini indicated his interest in the 
speaker and her work by begging the privilege 
of a personal interview with Mrs. McCord at her 
own house, which was cheerfully promised at any 
time convenient to him. 

At night the hall was crowded again — many 
being turned away — to hear Dr. Goodfellow, who 
discussed the elements and characteristics of 
“True Manhood,” closing with a few fitting words 
135 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY, 


on the Man of Nazareth, who was the model man, 
and also a laboring man, belonging to the poorer 
classes, and the best friend the poor man has ever 
had or ever will have. Before he dismissed the 
people, the Unknown Man rose and looked toward 
the speaker, as if awaiting his direction. He 
nodded his head, as much as to say “go on/’ 
whereupon the stranger said: 

“Let not your heart be troubled; ye believe 
in God, believe also in me. In my Father’s house 
are many mansions; if it were not so I would 
have told you. I go to prepare a place for you. 
And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will 
come again, and receive you unto myself, that 
where I am there ye may be also. . . . And 

God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; 
and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, 
nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain ; 
for the former things are passed away. . . . 

In his presence is fullness of joy ; at his right hand 
there are pleasures for evermore.” 

The people were dismissed, and proceeded 
quietly to their homes, all feeling this was the 
dawn of a better day to them. 


136 


XVII. 


INTERVIEW BETWEEN FATHER MARTINI AND 
MRS. MoCORD. 

Early the following week Father Martini 
called on Mrs. McCord for the promised inter- 
view. He was of French birth, though reared 
and educated in this country. He had also spent 
two years at Rome. He was thoroughly trained 
for the work of a Catholic priest. Naturally he 
was a man of striking personnel. His manners 
were polished and winning. He could move with 
grace and easy dignity in the most enlightened 
circles; he could also adapt himself to those in 
humble conditions. He was imbued with the 
natural love of freedom characteristic of his na- 
tive land. He had also imbibed the true spirit 
and lofty genius of American institutions. He 
was, therefore, a little restless under the limita- 
tions and ultramontanism of his Church. He was 
a conscientious Catholic, but he felt somewhat 
like a caged eagle. He panted for purer air and 
more of it; he longed for a broader vision and a 
137 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


larger sphere. He would gladly soar to the high- 
est mount of observation. He rightly sought to 
know all that could be known of truth and duty, 
and to do all that could be done to uplift and 
ennoble mankind. But he was under irritating 
restrictions — ecclesiastical, theological, social. In 
this state of mind he met Mrs. McCord. He was 
pleased with her spirit and the outline of her 
work. She received him cordially, and welcomed 
him heartily to her home. 

“I am truly delighted to have the pleasure of 
your acquaintance, Father Martini,” she declared. 
“I was glad to see you at our meeting, and to have 
you take part in the service. It has always seemed 
strange to me that our Catholic friends, who wor- 
ship the same God, believe in the same Christ, 
and are seeking the same heaven, should be sepa- 
rated from us in Christian labor and fellowship. 
Why can’t we work together?” 

With a peculiar twinkle of his eye, Father 
Martini saw his opportunity, and in the most 
gracious manner replied: “I fully share in the 
pleasure of our meeting, Mrs. McCord, and also 
in your surprise that we should be separated in 
work and fellowship. Does it not occur to you, 
138 


FATHER MARTINI. 


however, that it was the Protestants that sepa- 
rated from the Catholics ? But for that we would 
be united to-day. Why do you not return to the 
Church, and thus end the separation? You see, 
Mrs. McCord, the historical argument is against 
you. But seriously, I would not have you leave 
your Church and come to ours. Protestantism 
is doing a marvelous work in bringing the world 
to our Lord. It is to talk with you about your 
plans, and to find out if it will be possible for me 
to co-operate with you, that I am here.” 

Mrs. McCord’s countenance was illumed as 
with the light of a newborn joy as she listened 
to these words of the good priest, and she an- 
swered with much animation: “You can not 
imagine what happiness it affords me to hear you 
speak of co-operating with me. And I shall only 
be too glad to have your assistance on any plan 
that will not compromise you. My work is not 
under the auspices of Protestantism, nor even of 
my own particular Church, though I have the 
sympathy and support of my pastor, whom I 
would like you to know. The world’s great want 
is larger than any Church. I would not have you 
withdraw from your Church. It needs more 
139 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


priests of your broad and generous stamp. But 
can you not step out of your priestly garments, 
lay aside your ecclesiastical rubrics, and, as a 
brother man, follow the Master among the multi- 
tude of neglected people whom neither your 
Church nor mine is reaching?” 

“My sympathies are all in that direction,” 
acknowledged the father. “But you certainly 
understand, Mrs. McCord, that there is a divine 
order about all Christian service and worship ; and 
to ignore this is to go in the face of the Master, 
producing disorder and confusion. Moreover, the 
multitude of the unsaved is so large that the effort 
of one, or even a considerable number of indi- 
viduals, seems like a drop of water in the great 
ocean. These perishing millions need a massive 
organization, whose age and grandeur will im- 
press and awe, with authority to administer the 
holy sacraments.” 

Mrs. McCord was being led unexpectedly into 
deep water; but she breathed a mental prayer, 
and proceeded: “I am not learned as you are, 
Father Martini, in Church dialectics; but my 
Bible goes back to a time before either your 
Church or mine was in existence. And I read 
140 


FATHER MARTINI. 


of the Master going to the wilderness after one 
lost sheep ; of his talking to one poor sinful woman 
at the well of Jacob; of his order to ‘go preach 
to every creature f and of the final determination 
of human destiny upon the principle, ‘Inasmuch 
as ye did it to one of the least of these my brethren, 
ye did it unto mel In unevangelized communities, 
the people should be sought out and discipled 
first , then the organized Church should follow , 
‘teaching them to observe all things whatsoever 
He has commanded/ ” 

Father Martini had found his match in a field 
of argument which he did not understand as well 
as that in which he had been drilled in the schools. 
It was difficult for him to keep out of the realm 
of “authority,” “tradition,” “Church encyclicals,” 
and “ecclesiastical pronouncements.” An appeal, 
therefore, to primitive Christianity anterior to the 
historical origin of his Church led him into a field 
which he had not explored so thoroughly. But 
he was a Christian gentleman, and he was talk- 
ing to an educated lady. With genuine apprecia- 
tion of the ability of his fair antagonist, he con- 
tinued the interview: 

“You speak with a force, Mrs. McCord, which 
141 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


I am pleased to recognize, and your argument 
touches my heart. But I beg to inquire how you 
can expect to disciple or redeem any one with- 
out the saving ordinances of the Holy Church, and 
the presence of the divinely-appointed representa- 
tive of Almighty God to hear confession and pro- 
nounce absolution ?” 

“I can see,” returned Mrs. McCord, “the force 
of your question from your point of view; but 
I do not look at these matters from that point. 
How, Father Martini, there are many things we 
hold in common. Why can’t we stand together 
on the things about which we agree, and do the 
best we can for the poor, perishing people, until 
time and the Master shall adjust our disagree- 
ments? Let us see: you believe in God, in Jesus 
Christ, in the Holy Ghost, in the inspiration of 
the Bible, in the sinfulness of man, in the resur- 
rection of the dead, in the life eternal, do you 
not?” 

“With all my heart I do,” was his answer. 

“You believe also,” continued she, “in the 
necessity of improving the homes of the people; 
in purer air and water; in better tenements; in 
improved sanitary conditions; and in such pro- 
112 


FATHER MARTINI. 


vision for the moral, social, and intellectual up- 
lifting of the people as their condition seems to 
demand, do you not V ’ 

“With all my heart, I certainly do,” was the 
answer again. 

“Well, all these I believe, too,” said Mrs. 
McCord. “Now, why can’t we start on this creed, 
and help the poor people in their urgent need, 
and leave the points of disagreement to be settled 
by the theologians, the critics, the dogmatists, the 
formalists, the bishops, and the popes ; and, above 
all else, by time? For you know Lord Bacon has 
said, Truth is the child of time, not of authority.” 

“Indeed, I can not produce any good reason 
for not doing so,” confessed the clever priest, 
“excepting that the Church has not ordered the 
work to be done in that way.” 

“Well, now, honestly, Father Martini, if my 
ox should fall into the ditch, would not you help 
me take him out, even on the Sabbath-day?” in- 
quired Mrs. McCord. “The mass of the people 
are down in the ‘ditch/ and liable to perish be- 
fore either your Church or mine can reach them 
with their cumbrous machinery. Would it not be 
more Christlike to hurry to their help, get them 
143 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


out of the ‘ditch/ wash and clean them up, ready 
for presentation to the Church when it comes 
along, whether it shall be yours or mine V 1 

Father Martini replied: “I am compelled to 
believe you are quite right. I find no answer in 
my heart to your argument, though my head is 
slow to accept your conclusions. I must confess 
I find myself entangled by precedent and Church 
authority. I will co-operate with you in your 
Christly work, as far as I can.” 

Thanking Mrs. McCord for the pleasure of 
the interview, and the honor of her acquaintance, 
and receiving a most cordial invitation to call any 
time at his convenience, Father Martini departed 
with a new light in his heart, and a resolution to 
follow the Master wherever he might lead. 


144 


XVIII. 

JENNIE PATTERSON RESCUED. 

Nothing makes the heart so sick as to know 
that a loved one is lost, and not to know whether 
the missing one is dead or alive. It would be a 
relief to he assured of death, rather than to en- 
dure the fears that a highly-wrought imagination 
may suggest. What pen can portray the misery 
of those who have waited for weeks for tidings 
from the last battle, or from the vessel burned 
at sea, or from the mine that ingulfed its hun- 
dreds of workers ? 

Many children were lost in the great fire. 
Some were never heard from; others were found 
roaming aimlessly over the prairies, or through 
the desolate streets. The newspapers contained 
columns of advertisements, some inquiring for 
lost children, and offering rewards for informa- 
tion; others announcing the whereabouts of miss- 
ing persons and inquiring for their parents or 
friends. Several weeks had elapsed, and no tid- 
10 145 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


ings concerning Jennie Patterson. Her parents 
had used every available means to find her, but 
without success. The only conclusion was that 
she had either perished in the fire, or was being 
held for larger reward, or for some nameless 
purpose. The agony of the parents was unbear- 
able. The mother was completly prostrated. 

When the postman called at Mrs. McCord’s, 
where Mr. and Mrs. Patterson had stopped since 
the great calamity, he delivered a letter addressed 
to “Mr. and Mrs. Patterson, parents of the lost 
child,” which read: 

“Dear Friends, — ‘Behold, I bring you glad 
tidings of great joy. The dead is alive ; the lost 
is found. Rejoice and be exceeding glad.’ To- 
morrow the lost one will be home. 

“Unknown Man.” 

The effect of this brief message was inde- 
scribable. Mrs. Patterson sprang to her feet from 
the lounge, and clapped her hands for gladness. 
Mr. Patterson sent a message to the factory not 
to look for him for at least two days. All the 
McCords joined in the general joy. The whole 
neighborhood soon heard the good news, and 
shared in the rejoicing. Though what little they 
146 


JENNIE PATTERSON RESCUED . 


knew of the “Unknown Man” was enshrined in 
mystery, no one hinted a doubt of the genuine- 
ness of the letter. The parents could not close 
their eyes in sleep that night for very joy. It 
was the longest night of their lives. They thought 
the morning light would never dawn. They 
waited as those who watch for the morning. 

The discovery of Jennie came about in this 
way: Bud had learned of her loss through Mrs. 
McCord, and so was on the lookout for her 
wherever he went selling papers. He had also 
informed the Unknown Man, and he too joined 
in the search. One day Bud entered the Diamond 
Saloon, which was the worst dive in the ward, to 
sell papers. While he was there he passed into 
a small side-room, used as a restaurant and wine- 
room, when, to his great surprise and joy, he ob- 
served Jennie serving the tables. He had seen 
her several times at Mrs. McCord’s, and so recog- 
nized her at once. She would doubtless have 
recognized him also, but Bud knew that that 
might be fatal to her rescue ; so he kept his back 
toward her until he was out of the room. As 
he was going down street, he unexpectedly met 
the Unknown Man, to whom he reported his dis- 
147 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


covery. This strange person seemed instinctively 
to understand the little girl’s danger. He was sure 
that nothing but the coolest tact, involving per- 
haps a hard physical struggle, would rescue her. 
Tie knew, from the character of the place, that 
no motive of love or sympathy for the girl actu- 
ated the scoundrels who had decoyed her to that 
den of debauchery, where she was held as a cap- 
tive. So he said to Bud that he would manage 
the rescue, and Bud should deliver her to her 
parents. 

That same night, about ten o’clock, he entered, 
for the second time, the Diamond Saloon, which, 
as usual, was well filled with men of the baser 
sort, who frequent such places. As he moved 
about in the crowd he did not attract attention, or 
arouse suspicion. Presently he stepped into the 
restaurant and seated himself at a table. Fortu- 
nately, Jennie came to serve him. Instead of 
giving an order for refreshments, he said: “I am 
your friend, Jennie. I know you. You must 
not stay here. Come with me, and I will send you 
home to your father and mother. We can only 
escape through the front door of the saloon. I 
will stand near the door, and you come slowly 
148 


JENNIE PATTERSON RESCUED. 

through the saloon as if you were looking for 
something. When you see me, walk slowly to 
me; then we will rush out at the door and run 
for our lives. Make no mistake. Show no ex- 
citement. Trust me, and you will he with your 
mother in a few hours. Understand V 9 

“Yes, sir,” she said. 

He walked leisurely into the front room, 
where the bar was located, and took his stand 
not far from the door. There were a dozen men 
at the bar, all half drunk, so that his movement 
was not observed. But when Jennie appeared, 
some of the men addressed her and began to play 
with her, fondling her with their hands. This 
attracted the attention of the proprietor, who or- 
dered her back to the restaurant. But instead 
of obeying, she ran to the Unknowm Man, who 
seized her by the hand and started for the door. 
Before he reached it, however, the saloon-owner, 
seeing that his beautiful little prize was likely to 
escape, with a series of nameless oaths, grabbed 
the stranger by the coat-collar, and was about to 
throw him to the floor, when he received a blow 
from an unseen hand, that sent him sprawling on 
his back in the middle of the room, and, before 
149 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


he could get to his feet, Jennie and her rescuer 
had disappeared. As soon as they were outside 
of the dive, the stranger holding Jennie by the 
hand, ran rapidly, turning the first corner, pass- 
ing through an alley over to the next street, and 
out of sight of their pursuers. Indeed, the whole 
thing was done so quickly, and the blow received 
by the saloon proprietor was so stunning, that 
it was at least five minutes before he could realize 
what had occurred. The Unknown Man took 
Jennie to the house of Bud’s mother for the night, 
and instructed Bud to deliver her to her parents 
the next morning. 

After breakfast, Mrs. Patterson took her. seat 
at the front parlor window, and watched intently 
the gate opening into the splendid grounds of 
the McCord residence. Mr. Patterson walked 
back and forth on the path into which the gate 
opened, ever and anon wiping the perspiration 
from his face, and trying to disguise his manifest 
nervousness. About ten o’clock he glanced up 
the street toward the corner, when he saw a news- 
boy alight from the street-car, holding the hand 
of a little girl. He turned toward the house, and 
cried at the top of his voice: “Here she is! Here 
150 


JENNIE PATTERSON RESCUED. 


she is!” Then he flung open the gate and ran 
with all his might toward the corner. Jennie 
at once recognized him, and ran to meet him, 
crying, “O papa! O papa!” and jumped into his 
arms. By this time, Mrs. Patterson, haying 
rushed from the house, met them, and the scene 
of unspeakable joy was repeated, Jennie saying 
over and over, “O mamma! mamma! mamma!” 
They hugged and kissed their dear child again 
and again. Bud stood by and looked on with 
amazement. He had never witnessed such a scene. 
In the joy of the parents they had overlooked 
the boy. Mrs. Patterson said, “Why, Jennie, 
how did you ever get home?” “Bud brought 
me,” she answered. And then the mother be- 
came aware of Bud’s presence. She immediately 
threw her arms around him and kissed and kissed 
him until the poor boy blushed from ear to ear. 
“God bless you! God bless you! you dear boy, 
for finding and bringing our darling home. We 
can never pay you.” “God bless you ! my little 
man, for the great happiness you have brought 
to us. You shall have your reward,” said Mr. 
Patterson. By this time a large crowd had col- 
lected on the street, and everybody in the neigh- 
151 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


borhood knew that Jennie Patterson had been 
found and brought home by Bud, the newsboy. 

After they had entered the house and the ex- 
citement had somewhat subsided, Mr. Patterson 
placed in the hands of Bud ten twenty-dollar gold- 
pieces, and added, “This is not all ; you will hear 
from me again.” Poor Bud did n’t know there 
was that much money in the world. He was 
overcome. He had never thought of any reward. 
He was simply speechless. He looked at the shin- 
ing coin, and then, with a peculiar grin, he looked 
at Jennie. Then he picked up his cap and started 
for the door; but looking back to Mr. Patterson, 
he asked, “Wot will I do wid dis gol’-mine?” 

“Do just what you please, my little man,” 
said Mr. Patterson. 

“I ’ll tell you what to do with it, Bud. Buy 
a house ; may be we ’ll live in it some day” sug- 
gested Jennie. 


152 


XIX. 

MRS. McCORD LEASES AND RENOVATES A TENE- 
MENT BLOCK. 

The tenement-houses in Chattahooche, which 
furnished the lodging-places of many people in 
the “ Wicked Ward,” like those in other large 
cities, were the occasion, if not the direct cause, 
of much of the discomfort and immorality of 
their occupants. In the large buildings there were 
from twenty to fifty apartments, having from one 
to three rooms ; plain, small, destitute of paint 
and all adornments; so constructed that sunlight 
and pure air were entirely absent. Many of these 
rooms were in the basement, virtually under- 
ground, dark, damp, dirty, teeming with bugs and 
rats, festering with decay and filth. In many in- 
stances several persons of different ages and sex 
would occupy a single room. The sanitary regu- 
lations, or rather irregulations, were abominable. 
The halls, stairways, back yards, and alleys were 
153 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


usually reeking with filth and garbage. A visitor 
describes one of these buildings as follows: 

“On a dark day there is scarcely any light 
at all in these rooms ; and on the brightest sun- 
shiny day there is only a little light during the 
middle of the day, and never any direct rays of 
the sun. I found, up in one of these rooms, a 
young woman with her first-born in her arms, 
not yet a year old, that will certainly die before 
the summer is out if it stays there. All day long 
the mother and wife is kept here with her invalid 
child. Their faces look like potato-vines that 
have sprouted and grown in the cellar. They 
are dying for the lack of sunshine and pure 
air. . . . There are scores of tenement- 

houses where the sqn never rises at all, except 
on the roof-tops, or now and then sends a slant 
ray, thrown down into the dark court in seem- 
ing mockery. It is impossible for any one to 
get from language alone, either spoken or writ- 
ten, an adequate idea of the loneliness, the sense 
of gloom, the filth and squalor, of the apartments 
in some of these tenement-houses.” 

Crowded, as many are, by sheer necessity, 
into these repulsive places, something after the 
154 


LEASE OF A TENEMENT BLOCK. 


manner of transporting slaves in the dark hold 
of sailing-vessels from Africa two hundred years 
ago, one can imagine them praying all the time, 
if they ever knew what these things mean: 

“0, but to breathe the breath 

Of the cowslip and primrose sweet, 

With the sky above my head, 

And the grass beneath my feet ; 

For only one short hour 
To feel as I used to feel, 

Before I knew the woes of want, 

And the walk that costs a meal !” 

In prosecuting her design to improve the con- 
dition of the people, Mrs. McCord ascertained 
the address of the owner of the Hathaway Tene- 
ment Block. Calling upon him, she first protested 
against the dilapidated condition of the building 
and its utter lack of proper sanitary regulations. 
The owner rather winced under her scathing re- 
buke. Then, as usual from such landlords, he 
insisted that the rental income did not justify 
any improvements. She inquired the rental value 
of the buildings. He replied that the forty apart- 
ments ought to average four dollars a month, 
which would be $1,920 a year ; but that he did n’t 
get that much out of them, for some never paid 
155 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


any rent. Whereupon Mrs. McCord proposed to 
take a lease on the entire building for five years, 
at $1,800 a year, provided he would spend $500 
in repairs immediately. He promptly accepted 
her proposition, and the lease was signed and de- 
livered, Mrs. McCord giving her check for the 
first month’s rent. 

The renovation of the old, dilapidated place 
began at once. A plain coating of paint was put 
on the interior; inexpensive but neat paper was 
placed on the walls ; the ventilation was improved, 
and the closets put in good sanitary condition. 
The back yards were cleaned up, and the fences 
and sheds were whitewashed. The tenants were 
so delighted that many of them assisted in the 
work. There were about one hundred and fifty 
people in the building. Mrs. McCord scaled the 
rent according to the number and location of the 
rooms, fixing the prices at enough to cover what 
she had agreed to pay, including the cost of a 
person to take charge of the premises. She 
executed new leases at the beginning of the 
month, enjoining cleanliness in all the apartments. 
The superintendent scrubbed the halls and stair- 
ways every Saturday, and swept them every day. 

156 


LEASE OF A TENEMENT BLOCK . 


Each apartment was inspected once a week. A 
placard was hung on every door, “Please help to 
keep things clean and nice, and you will have 
your reward.” A small deduction was made on 
all advance payments. Mrs. Buddington, Bud’s 
mother, was selected to have charge of the build- 
ing. One of Mr. McCord’s clerks collected the 
rents the first of each month. 

In a short time the tenants, as well as the 
building, were transformed. Cleanliness, in and 
about the premises, stimulated the occupants to 
greater neatness and order. Nearly all seemed 
to take pride in the upward movement of things. 
The newspapers spoke in approving terms of the 
new departure. Tenants in other buildings com- 
plained and demanded better quarters. Landlords 
became alarmed, and began to improve their 
properties. The leaven worked in many direc- 
tions. Mrs. McCord, supported by a number of 
the leading citizens, visited the mayor and Board 
of Health, and demanded more attention to the 
sanitary necessities of that part of the city. The 
police service was also improved. In one year 
a most decided change for the better was in evi- 
dence in that ward. At the close of the first year, 
157 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


the receipts from rentals footed $2,000. After 
paying $100 for the care of the building, $100 
remained, which was nearly seven per cent on the 
investment. This was deposited in the bank, to 
be used for the benefit of any who might be out 
of employment or unable from sickness to pay 
their rent. All the tenants who did not move 
out of that part of the city were anxious to rent 
for another year, and more applications for rooms 
were made than could be accommodated. In 
every way the experiment was a success. 


158 


XX. 


INTERVIEW WITH A SOCIALIST. 

The Unknown Man spent much of his time 
visiting from house to house among the poorest 
of the people, imparting temporal and spiritual 
help to those in greatest need. In these excursions 
he met with varied receptions. Some were glad 
to see and hear him ; others would scarcely admit 
him, or, if admitted, would soon indicate that 
his spiritual ministrations were not needed, though 
the tender of material aid was never declined, 
albeit sometimes received with evidence of sus- 
picion. Distrust, prejudice, and often hatred to- 
ward the rich, frequently appeared, while, as to 
God, there was neither faith nor reverence, but 
often a feeling of bold defiance or hopeless de- 
spair. One family will be a fair illustration of 
many others. It consisted of husband, wife, and 
five children, and wife’s mother. The husband 
was a man of considerable intelligence, evidently 
having seen better days. His income of an 
average of four dollars a week came from odd 
159 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


jobs of common work secured at random. The 
wife was a pale-faced, careworn, discouraged 
mother, whose income from washing and ironing 
never exceeded three dollars a week. The chil- 
dren were non-producers, excepting as they oc- 
casionally carried home a few pieces of mill- 
wood or a lump of coal, picked up on the street. 
After paying four dollars a month for rent, the 
amount remaining with which to clothe and feed 
three adults and five children for a month never 
exceeded twenty-five dollars — often it was less. 
Once in his life the husband’s income had been 
a thousand dollars a year. But misfortune and 
adverse circumstances had cast him into the 
stream that is daily floating its hundreds into the 
hopeless maelstrom of the Submerged classes” 
of the great cities. If he ever had any faith in 
God, it had disappeared. If he ever had believed 
in the sympathy and helpfulness of the upper 
classes, he had ceased so to believe. Whatever 
respect for the Church he had imbibed in earlier 
life, had been supplanted by bitterness of feel- 
ing and a sense of neglect and injustice. He 
was not in a state of mind to receive spiritual 
comfort with profit, and temporal aid was not ac- 
160 


INTERVIEW WITH A SOCIALIST. 


cepted with any spirit of gratitude; for he had 
the feeling that he could comfortably support his 
family if he had a chance to work at fair wages. 
What he wanted was that “chance.” However 
much such a man may be responsible for his un- 
fortunate condition, he can never be uplifted by 
reminding him of his own shortcomings. He 
must be approached in some other way. 

In his interview with this person, whose name 
was Todd, the Unknown Man found it necessary 
to depart from his custom of using Scripture 
language exclusively. Addressing Mr. Todd, he 
said: 

“I should be glad to assist you in some way, 
if I can. The appearance of your house and your 
family indicate that your income is insufficient 
to make your family comfortable.” 

“Who pays you for detective service,” in- 
quired Mr. Todd. “This is my family, and I can 
take care of them, if I can find work at decent 
wages.” 

“I hope you will not take offense at what I 
say,” replied the visitor. “I am only seeking 
your welfare. I am your friend and your 
brother.” 

11 


161 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


“It ’s mighty strange, if you are my brother, 
that you did n’t find me before this. I suppose 
you are one of them ‘missioners’ that meet in 
that little shanty down the street, where they want 
my children to attend Sunday-school. Do you 
think I would permit them to go to such a ‘shack’ 
as that, a building which the saloons and gamblers 
would not have for their business?” And Mr. 
Todd turned his back to the speaker in disgust, 
and walked across the room. 

“But you must remember, Mr. Todd, that the 
world’s Savior was born in a manger, and in later 
life had not where to lay his head.” 

“Mighty few of those who call themselves 
his disciples are born in mangers these days,” 
was the response. “And as to having no place 
to lay his head, he ought to call on some of his 
friends for entertainment, who now live in marble 
palaces that cost a million dollars. Perhaps they 
could furnish him a pillow and a bed for a few 
days.” 

“But,” continued the Unknown Man, “you 
ought not to hold him responsible for the ex- 
travagant use of money by some of his friends. 
They do n’t all do so. And I want to assure you 
162 


INTERVIEW WITH A SOCIALIST. 


that God is your friend, as he is the friend of 
all the poor and oppressed.” 

“Well, I am glad to hear that,” retorted Mr. 
Todd, somewhat ironically; “but I would have 
less trouble in believing it if I had some evidence 
of his friendship.” 

“Has he not said,” proceeded the Unknown 
Man, “ ‘If ye being evil know how to give good 
gifts to your children, how much more willing 
is your Father in heaven to give good things to 
them that ask him ?’ ” 

“How do I know he said that?” interrupted 
Mr. Todd. “And if he did say it, why do n’t 
he do it?” 

“Perhaps you do n’t ask him.” 

“Look here, stranger. Do you suppose I 
could look upon the rags of my children and hear 
them crying for something to eat, and not ask 
Almighty God, if there is such a person, to help 
me get these things for them? Ho, sir; I have 
asked him a thousand times, and he did n’t answer. 
If he means what he says, why do n’t he help a 
poor fellow when he is down, without money and 
friends, and nobody to help him up? If I had 
the power to give my children bread when they 
163 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


are crying with hunger, and did not do it, what 
kind of a father would I be ? I do n’t want to 
know anything more about a God that is always 
promising to do great things, and never does any- 
thing for the poor. I ’ve lived in this ward five 
years, and, as far as I know, there has never been 
a man or woman in my house to inquire after 
our welfare, except the landlord’s agent, who calls 
for the rent the first of every month. No, sir; 
you need n’t talk to me about your God helping 
a fellow like me. He may help you fellows, but 
I ’m not on his pay-roll.” 

“I am very sorry you feel this way. You 
must have had an unfortunate history. Did you 
have any religious training when young?” in- 
quired the visitor. 

“Yes, sir, I had. I ’m not a heathen. I in- 
herited the Christian faith. My mother was as 
good a woman as ever walked the earth. I never 
doubted the Bible or the sincerity of Christians 
while her example was before me. When I grew 
to young manhood, I passed through a short 
period of skepticism, until, by personal investi- 
gation, I satisfied my mind as to the truth of the 
teachings of Jesus Christ. In these later years, 
164 


INTERVIEW WITH A SOCIALIST. 


however, I have been drifting. Adversity, pov- 
erty, and the lack of sympathy have brought me 
where I am. I now find myself believing in 
neither God nor man. Yours is the first word of 
sympathy I have heard for years; your offer of 
assistance is so unusual that I can hardly credit 
you with sincerity.” 

“Well, my brother, I beg you to believe me 
sincere; and as proof of the same, kindly accept 
this to aid in the support of your family;” and 
the Unknown Man handed him ten dollars, con- 
tinuing, “You will hear from me again. I will 
see that you have regular work at good wages.” 

Mr. Todd flushed a little, and was loath to 
accept the money, but the necessities of his family 
and the evident disinterestedness of the giver 
overcame his scruples. As he thanked his un- 
known benefactor a slight tremor was in his voice, 
and an unbidden tear slowly crept down his care- 
worn face. The strange brother then invited Mr. 
Todd and his family to attend the meetings at 
Oak Hall, and, after repeating these words of 
Holy Scripture, bade them a loving good-bye, 
with a promise to come again: 

“Take no thought for your life, what ye shall 
165 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


eat, or what ye shall drink; nor yet for your 
body, what you shall put on. Is not the life more 
than meat, and the body than raiment? Be- 
hold the fowls of the air ; for they sow not, neither 
do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your 
Heavenly Father feedeth them. Are ye not much 
better than they ? And why take you thought for 
raiment ? Consider the lilies of the field, how they 
grow; they toil not, neither do they spin; and 
yet I say unto you that even Solomon in all his 
glory was not arrayed like one of these.” 


166 


XXI. 

A PLOT TO KILL THE UNKNOWN MAN, DEFEATED. 

The proprietor' of the Diamond Saloon was 
greatly enraged at the escape of so valuable a 
prize as he thought he had in the person of Jennie 
Patterson. He began to plot for the punishment 
of her rescuer, as soon as he ascertained who he 
was. Indeed, his plan was to have him “re- 
moved,” so he might not suffer any further an- 
noyance from him. Bud went in and out of the 
saloon at pleasure, in selling papers, without at- 
tracting any attention. One evening he overheard 
part of a conversation between the owner and a 
half dozen “base fellows,” the substance of which 
was that they would invite the Unknown Man to 
the saloon to deliver an address, and, while there, 
would fall upon him and accomplish their ne- 
farious purpose, arguing that, as he was a stranger 
with no friends, they could easily put him out 
of the way, and no person would ever inquire after 
him, or call them to an account. Bud reported 
1G7 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


to the Irish policeman, who had been interested 
in this strange man’s movements ever since he 
first met him at Jammie McFadden’s funeral, 
what he had heard. This officer watched for the 
stranger on the street, as no one seemed to know 
where he lived. As soon as he met him, he re- 
vealed the plot of the saloon-keeper. After con- 
sultation, they agreed upon a plan of operation. 
The Unknown Man was to accept the invitation 
to speak in the Diamond. The policeman reported 
the affair to the chief of police, and said, “Whin 
the toime is fixed for the visit and the attack, I 
want yees to furnish me with two officers of the 
sacret sarvice, and we ’ll be afther bayin’ prisint 
oorsilves at the same time and place, and, if it 
plazes your honor, we ’ll take soom parth in the 
ixercoises.” 

The chief promised all Pat asked for. A few 
days later, as the Unknown Man was passing the 
Diamond, the following note was handed him: 

“Dear Sir, — We all regretted very much the 
interruption that occurred some weeks ago when 
you visited us and delivered a very interesting 
address. You doubtless observed that many who 
were present were under the influence of liquor ; 

168 


PLOT TO KILL THE UNKNOWN . 


otherwise there would have been no trouble, and 
you would not have been arrested. I write this 
to say that if it will be convenient for you, we 
would be very glad to have you repeat your visit 
next Thursday night, when we will assure you 
of a large hearing and a warm reception. 

“ Yours truly, Jacob Killmen, 

Proprietor of the Diamond.” 

This note was promptly shown to the police- 
man. “Good,” said Pat, “it woorks like a chairm. 
It ’s mesilf, with the two ither b’yes, that ’ll be 
thare, shure as St. Pathrick scared the nasty 
snakes out of owld Ireland. We ’ll have a matin’ 
they ’ll niver furgit, at all, at all. Will yees mind 
that?” 

Nature sometimes assumes her most terrific 
garb and sounds forth her most threatening voice 
when men of murderous intent are plotting 
crime. Thursday night was dark and ominous. 
About the middle of the afternoon a fearful storm 
swept over the lake and the city, which continued 
into the night. The heavens were black and 
angry. Occasional flashes of lightning, attended 
by fearful peals of thunder, added to the terror 
of the night. The flickering lights of the street 
169 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


seemed awed into fear by these vengeful voices of 
nature. Ever and anon belated footmen were seen 
seeking refuge from the angered elements. It was 
a fitting night for a dark deed. Quite a group 
of kindred spirits had collected in the Diamond 
to witness the “doing up” of the Unknown Man. 
All were more or less the worse for drink. About 
ten o’clock the intended victim entered the sa- 
loon. Two secret policemen, in citizens’ clothes, 
soon followed. 

The Unknown Man was met by the proprietor, 
and shown to a seat in the remote end of the 
room, near the rear door, which was doubtless 
intended to be used as a place of exit in the plot. 
About twenty men gathered about him, and an- 
nounced their readiness to hear what he had to 
say. The two secret policemen also took seats 
near by. 

The stranger arose and said: 

“0 ye generation of vipers, who hath warned 
you to flee from the wrath to come ? Bring forth 
therefore fruits meet for repentance. Ye ser- 
pents, ye generation of vipers, how can ye escape 
the damnation of hell ? Behold your house is left 
unto you desolate. For I say unto you, Ye shall 
170 


PLOT TO KILL THE UNKNOWN. 


not see me henceforth, till ye say, Blessed is he 
that cometh in the name of the Lord.” 

At this point, by a previously-arranged sig- 
nal, the men all sprang to their feet, and began 
cursing the speaker and each other. Tables and 
chairs were upset, and general confusion pre- 
vailed. The crowd circled about the stranger to 
prevent his escape, but acting and talking all the 
time as if they were quarreling among themselves. 
In the midst of the melee, the owner of the place 
stole up behind the Unknown Man, and, seizing 
his arms, thought to throw him to the floor ; but 
the stranger quickly released himself from the 
grasp of his assailant. At the same time the two 
policemen appeared on the scene and arrested a 
half dozen men, including the proprietor of the 
saloon. Just then three additional officers, who 
had been waiting outside for developments, en- 
tered and arrested the rest of the crowd. They 
were all taken to the police station and locked up 
until morning. 

The clouds had folded their wings, and retired 
for rest. The voice of the thunder had been 
hushed into silence. The winds had been sub- 
dued and the waves calmed. The moon was shin- 
171 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


ing in soft and sympathetic splendor, and the stars 
were winking at each other in modest coquetry. 
The storm was overpast. It seemed as if nature 
was celebrating the defeat of the wrong, and the 
triumph of the right. 

At the preliminary examination, the prisoners 
were bound over to appear before the Grand Jury 
on the charge of “assault and battery, with intent 
to kill.” The Grand Jury found a true bill against 
them. When they were brought to trial the testi- 
mony of Bud, the letter of the proprietor to the 
Unknown Man, and the evidence of the police- 
men, showed clearly that they were guilty, and 
the jury found a verdict accordingly. They were 
all sentenced to imprisonment, the owner of the 
saloon for ten years, and the others for five years 
each. 

The mayor revoked the license of the Diamond 
the day following the arrest. Mrs. McCord im- 
mediately rented the premises, and converted the 
place into a reading-room and library. Truly, 
history hath its revenges. 


XXII. 


CHURCH OF THE UPPER STRATA CHANGES ITS 
NAME. 

Dr. Goodfellow had patiently considered for 
several weeks what course Providence and duty 
indicated to him for the future. He had received 
several flattering invitations to large churches, 
with an increase of salary. His own people, how- 
ever, clung to him more strongly than before the 
fire which destroyed the Church of the Upper 
Strata. They had decided to rebuild. And some 
were pronounced in their opinion that to leave 
them now would be like a general abandoning his 
army at the moment of supreme crisis. Besides 
this, the trustees had decided to build a much less 
expensive house of worship than their former 
place — one that would afford them all the room 
and conveniences necessary, but costing only half 
as much as the old church, which pleased the pas- 
tor. But what influenced him most was the fact 
that his preaching, together with Mrs. McCord’s 
work, had wrought a great change in the minds 
173 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


of the people as to their dutv towards the poor 
and neglected. They were now ready to encour- 
age, and with their means support, evangelistic 
effort among them. While Dr. Goodfellow was 
strongly drawn toward that field, and had serious 
thoughts of entering it, he nevertheless felt that, 
having brought his Church to see its duty toward 
the poor, it would be best for him to remain as 
their pastor, and direct their money and personal 
endeavor toward that most urgent and important 
work. This he finally decided to do. The trus- 
tees, having purchased a suitable location, pro- 
ceeded to the erection of the new house of 
worship. It would furnish a larger seating capac- 
ity and more and better appliances for Christian 
worship and work than the former house. By the 
suggestion of the pastor, all needless adornment 
was omitted. Nothing that would feed the pride 
of the flesh or suggest class discrimination should 
be permitted. It was to be a plain, unpretentious, 
yet beautiful temple, with all needed accommo- 
dations and provision for the promotion of Chris- 
tian work, intellectual edification, and social rec- 
reation. The most remarkable thing of all, how- 
ever, was the fact that, without consulting their 
174 


UPPER STRATA CHANGES NAME. 


pastor until after the decision had been reached, 
it had been unanimously determined by the trus- 
tees, and confirmed by the congregation, to dis- 
continue the old name, which they felt to be a 
misnomer, and to call the new temple the “Church 
of the New Humanity,” as being a “People’s 
House of Hope.” This was very congenial 
to the pastor’s conviction and feeling. Its scope 
was as large as the needs of the race. It embraced 
all the “people;” no class, no color, no race, was 
necessarily excluded. It was the “House of 
Hope,” as revealed in the gospel, and exemplified 
in the infallible teaching and faultless life of the 
Man of Hazareth. He would no longer feel any 
restrictions or limitations in preaching and apply- 
ing the gospel. Evidently a new era had dawned 
in the unfolding history of this strong and wealthy 
Church. The seed sown by the eloquent young 
clergyman had produced the desired fruit, though 
it seemed to him at times that the “care of this 
world and the deceitfulness of riches choked the 
word.” 

Miss Josephine, the oldest daughter of Mrs. 
McCord, had just returned home from college, 
where she was graduated with honor. She was a 
175 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


young lady of charming presence, highly-culti- 
vated mind, brilliant in conversation, but .some- 
what lax in her religious sentiments, and quite 
inclined to reckless independence of thought. In- 
deed, it might be said that her mind was drifting 
toward iconoclasm in matters religious. Dr. 
Goodfellow had never met her, though he had 
heard much about her through the family. Miss 
McCord had also heard about the popular young 
pastor. Soon after her return he was invited to 
tea, and to spend the evening with the family. 
When they met they did not seem like strangers 
to each other. That the meeting was pleasant and 
congenial in many respects, would not have been 
denied by either, albeit there were several points 
of sharp antagonism between them. 

Mr. McCord had given Bud a position in his 
office as general errand and office boy, at a salary 
that yielded him three times as much as selling 
papers. He, also, allowed him his nights and two 
hours in the afternoon to attend school. It was 
found that Bud was a boy of much more than ordi- 
nary natural brightness. When placed in a better 
environment he developed rapidly. He gradually 
discontinued his street dialect. He was also a 
176 


UPPER STRATA CHANGES NAME. 


boy of very fine personal appearance, after lie laid 
aside his newsboy apparel and clad himself in 
clothing fitted to his size, which he did immedi- 
ately. After supplying his mother and himself 
with a much-needed outfit of new wearing ap- 
parel, he deposited what remained of his two hun- 
dred dollars in the bank. He wondered what Jen- 
nie Patterson meant when she said, “Buy a house, 
Bud ; maybe we ’ll live in it some day.” Mrs. 
Patterson had called to see Bud’s mother, and, 
taking her down-town with her in her own car- 
riage, invested one hundred dollars in new furni- 
ture for the benefit of Mrs. Buddington, com- 
pletely furnishing the house with carpets, beds 
and bedding, chairs, chiffonier, pictures, stoves, 
dishes, and all other things necessary for comfort. 
Mr. Patterson, also, paid her rent for one year 
in advance. 

Mr. and Mrs. Patterson felt that they should 
reward the Unknown Man for his part in rescuing 
Jennie. As he did not know where he lived, or 
in what house to find him, he sent him one hun- 
dred dollars through Bud; but the money was 
returned with the explanation, through Bud, that 
he declined to accept anything for his service; 

12 177 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 

that he had already been well paid; and that he 
hoped Mr. Patterson would apply the money 
toward improving the condition of the poor people 
in the “ Wicked Ward.” 

Mr. Patterson’s new house had been com- 
pleted, and they were again in their own home, 
more beautiful and comfortable than the one 
burned in the fire. Jennie seemed like one risen 
from the dead. She was more precious to them 
than ever. Nothing was withheld from her that 
she desired. After they were fairly settled and 
“fixed up,” Jennie said to her mother one day: 
“O mamma, I’d like to see Bud. Won’t you 
please invite him to take dinner with us some 
day?” 


178 


XXIII. 


A COSMOPOLITAN EXPERIENCE MEETING AT 
OAK HALL. 

Mrs. McCord’s work in the “ Wicked Ward” 
continued to improve and enlarge. She held meet- 
ings every Sunday afternoon in Oak Hall, con- 
ducted by herself, or Dr. Goodfellow. Indeed, 
this meeting had become quite a fixed institution 
among the people. The fruit of her Christly 
efforts were manifest in the improved appearance 
of the people, and in the marked renovation of 
their homes. They accepted her as a true friend, 
and they believed in her, and, therefore, in the 
Master in whose name she wrought. True, their 
views of him were crude and incoherent. They 
were not theologians. They knew scarcely any- 
thing of the Bible. But they were becoming inter- 
ested in it, and quite a number had already solic- 
ited copies. Mrs. McCord did not urge upon them 
personal religion as first and supreme in impor- 
179 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


tance. To have done this, in view of their preju- 
dice against the Churches, would have defeated 
her object. She approached their religious nature 
indirectly. She had found that, of all the re- 
corded miracles of healing, wrought by the Naza- 
rene, only one, as far as is known, received the 
forgiveness of sins before he was healed ; and even 
in the case of that one, it is probable that the heal- 
ing and the pardon were nearly simultaneous. 
She believed, therefore, that she was following in 
His steps in seeking to reach their spiritual na- 
tures by the improvement of their physical, do- 
mestic, and industrial condition. Thus far this 
method had yielded the most satisfactory fruit. 
Many had accepted Christ, and were walking in 
his commandments, as they came to understand 
the same. 

Her congregations were cosmopolitan and 
apostolic. The last one was a fair sample of all. 
At the first Pentecostal meeting there were pres- 
ent “Parthians, and Medes, and Elamites, and the 
dwellers in Mesopotamia, and in Judea and Cap- 
padocia, in Pontus and Asia, Phrygia and Pam- 
phylia, in Egypt and in the parts of Libya about 
Cyrene, and strangers of Rome, Jews and prose- 
180 


COSMOPOLITAN EXPERIENCE-MEETING. 


lytes, Cretes and Arabians.” At the gathering in 
Oak Hall there were present Irish, Scotch, Eng- 
lish, Germans, French, Italians, Scandinavians, 
Chinamen, Japanese, Bohemians, Spaniards, 
Americans, and strangers from the islands of the 
sea. These various nationalities could easily have 
been precipitated into a religious war. They were 
united in nothing save their common poverty and 
depression. But they all heard “gladly” Mrs. 
McCord or any one she might indorse. The 
thought of this heterogeneous collection of human 
beings, concerning their “patron saint” and the 
Master whom she claimed to have sent her among 
them, may be gathered from some observations 
expressed at the close of the last meeting. Mrs. 
McCord stated that she desired to know, for her 
encouragement, how they felt about this work, 
and about the good !N azarene, the carpenter’s Son. 
The following responses were made: 

Mr. McFadden — “I can na’ tell hoo much I 
hae been blest monv times in these meetings. An’ 
my auld wifie she hae been vary greatly bene- 
feeted allsoo. Oor ain hame hae been muckle 
changed for the better. I hae gien mysel’ to the 
gude Master, that keeps my young bairn, Jammie, 
181 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


till I gang to the gowden city. I ’ve his gude 
word o’ promise that he ’ll tak’ me, by-and-by, to 
my ain countree. Sae I ’m watchin’, an’ singin’ 
o’ my hame over there, and lis’nin’ for the soun’in’ 
o’ his footfa’ when he cooms to tak me to my ain 
bonnie hame. May the Almi’ty Fayther bless 
you, Mrs. McCord, for your gude work !” 

The Irish Policeman — “I belave in the Holy 
Catholic Church, and in the holy St. Pether; but 
it ’s mesilf that is afther bain’ much plaised with 
the woork of Mrs. McCord. She reminds me 
vary mooch of me own mither in good owld Ire- 
land. And by the power of the holy St. Pathrick, 
I ’ll fight any time for Mrs. McCord and the car- 
penther’s Son, who was also the Son of the Holy 
Mary. May her blessing be upon yees all!” 

Jacob Isaac, the father of “Sheeny,” the news- 
boy — “I be von Israelite. I stay by mine fadders. 
I vill no run avay from Abraham, Isaac, and 
Jacob. But I like dot mon, you kail him vat, 
de karpenter’s Son ? Dot karpenter he vas Joseph, 
von of mine brudders. He vas a goot mon. If 
I had bin dare ven dem peoples kilt his son, I 
vould hab hit dem mit mine fist. He speak goot 
doctreene. He do goot vary much mit de corn- 
182 


COSMOPOLITAN EXPERIENCE-MEETING. 


mon peoples. He speak to mine countrymen, de 
Jews, first, and den tie say dare be room also for 
de Gentiles, vicli is you mons. I vill stand for 
him in dese meetings. I vill also stand for mine 
friend, Mrs. McCord. De blessin’ of de Got of 
Jacob, mine f adder, be upon dis daughter of 
Sarah, who vas mine mudder, also !” 

A Frenchman — “Oui ! Oui! I vas vary 
much plee-zed wid vat I hear about ze bon ’ homme. 
II est le tres grand homme. Yat you call him, 
eh? Le bon temps viendra. I vil say zat ma 
chere Madame McCord is doing le grande oeuvre , 
ze great work. I vil vary much stand up un peu 
for notre dame. Dieu vous garde.” 

John Chinaman — “Me likee Hazalene Manee. 
He is good Manee. He makes me good manee. 
He talkee like Confu’cee. He must be son of 
Confu’cee. I will be his manee. Mrs. McCo’d 
make me feel goodee. I come again. How much 
monee you want? I give one dolla’.” 

Scandinavian — “Ya tank ya like vary much 
to come to dis meetin\ He make ma feel goot in 
ma breast. Mrs. McCord, she speak so noice. She 
tell de truth some vary much. Ya tank ya vill 
believe in dat Man of Hazaret’. Ya vill pay for 
183 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


one Bible, ond read him one leetle bit on Sunday. 
Ya vil give two dallo’ to pay for dis Hall.” 

The Farmer — “Well, I reckin I ort to say 
somethin’, seein’ I ’m here ag’in. I fetched in a 
lode of hay yisterday arternoon, and hearin’ about 
this meetin’, just thought I ’d stop over and a’tend 
to-day. There ’s a mighty sight o’ talkin’ in Koon- 
socket Holler about what ’s goin’ on in this ward 
just now. This lady is a-doin’ a powerful sight uv 
good, and there ’s no denyin’ on ’t, neither. I ’ve 
only bin here three times, and I ’ve stopped 
swearin’ some myself, and I only take one glass 
of beer now, and I used to turn in four or five 
every time I sold a lode of hay, or a kord uv wood. 
Beside this, I do n’t whack old George, my off 
hoss, half as much as I did aforetime; and when 
my old mooley cow sot her hine foot in the milk 
pail, the other night, I only said ‘dang it all,’ and 
milked right on till the critter was dry. My old 
woman says I sleep sounder uv nights, and I ’ve 
kissed her a half dozen times since I was here a 
week ago, somethin’ I had n’t bin a doin’ much 
since I was a young feller a-sparkin’ uv the gals 
and a takin’ them hum from singin’ skule. I tell 
ye, my bretherin’, the leaven am a leavenin’ ; it ’s 
184 


COSM OPOLITAN EXPERIENCE-MEETING. 


a spreadin’ out all through me. The next time 
I come in, if I have any room, I will bring in some 
’taters, and cabbage, and ing’ins, an’ sich like, 
and gin ’em to these poor people. An’ I won’t 
take nothin’ fur ’em, neither, even if they should 
offer me the pay, for I ’ve got a powerful sight 
uv them, and am just a-feedin’ them to the stock. 
I tell you, my bretherin’, it pays to be liberal. 
My mother had an old Book that had somethin’ 
writ in it like this, ‘Give, an’ it shall be given to 
you ag’in, pressed down and runnin’ over.’ So 
I kalcurlate it will all cum back to me ag’in, like 
the prodigal son, and offerin’ ten per cent interest 
to be tuk in. I want to say ag’in that the people 
of Koonsocket Holler is very desirable uv havin’ 
Mrs. McCord cum out to Mason’s schulehouse 
and giv ’em a lectur on ‘How to Make the Hum 
Better.’ Seein’ uv the betterment of my hum 
since I ’ve been tendin’ these meetin’s, it keeps 
a pesterin’ uv me and my old woman, day and 
night, to know how to do it. There ’s a wide field 
there. I still keep open my offer to convay the 
lady out and back on my hay-riggin’.” 

An American — “W ell, all I ’ve got to say is, 
that I was a low-down drunkard and a gambler, 
185 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


and a fast man in every way. Some months ago 
I heard an Unknown Man speak in the Diamond 
Saloon, and it made me think of my dear mother, 
who has been in heaven ever since I was a little 
boy; and when the crowd were about to attack 
him, I knocked three or four of them down, while 
the stranger got away. Ever since I heard him I 
have been troubled. When I heard Mrs. McCord 
speak, she also reminded me of my good mother, 
and I could hear her dear voice, just as I heard it 
when she left me: ‘Edward, meet me in heaven.’ 
And when, in the first meeting in this hall, the 
choir was singing, ‘O, think of the home over 
there/ I decided to meet mother ‘over there.’ In 
this hope I am now living a temperate and Chris- 
tian life. Pray for me.” 

Unknown Man — “As the heavens are higher 
than the earth, so are my ways higher than your 
ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. Eor 
as the rain cometh down and the snow from 
heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth 
the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, 
that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to 
the eater; so shall my word be that goeth forth 
out of my mouth. It shall not return unto me 
1SG 


COSMOPOLITAN EXPERIENCE-MEETING. 


void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, 
and it shall prosper in the thing whereunto I send 
it. For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth 
with peace. The mountains and the hills shall 
break forth before you into singing, and all the 
trees of the fields shall clap their hands.” 


187 


XXIV. 


DEDICATION OF THE “CHURCH OF THE NEW 
HUMANITY.” 

The Sabbath following Dr. , Goodfellow’s first 
visit at Mr. McCord’s and his talk with Miss 
Josephine McCord, he had a listener in his con- 
gregation, in the temporary place of worship, who 
felt an unusual interest in his sermon and in the 
speaker. Hitherto she had not been noted for 
close attention to preaching. If she attended 
church at all, it was simply in conformity with 
the requirements of college. If she had been 
asked to furnish an explanation of her interest in 
Dr. Goodfellow and his sermon, she could not 
have given a satisfactory answer. She was not 
conscious of yielding in her antagonism to re- 
ligion; and as to the speaker, he was nothing to 
her more than an educated, popular young clergy- 
man, to whom it was pleasant to listen. And yet, 
somehow, both her conscience and her heart were 
involved in the message and the messenger who 
occupied the pulpit that morning. 

188 


A DEDICATION. 


It is just as true to say that while, as a rule, 
Dr. Goodfellow was remarkably easy and free 
from restraint in his pulpit efforts, this morning 
he was a little stiff, and, from some cause, felt 
more than ordinary concern as to how he might 
succeed. His sermon was a discussion of the 
obligation of personal influence. The application 
was earnest, urgent, loving. More than once he 
caught Miss Josephine’s eye, and wondered to 
himself how the truth and the speaker were af- 
fecting her. He could not, perhaps, have given 
any reason for his special interest in her, other 
than that her religious sentiments needed recon- 
structing. 

The “Church of the Hew Humanity” was now 
completed and ready for dedication. The daily 
press contained the following account of the dedi- 
catory services: 

“An unusual event occurred in our city last 
Sabbath. One of the oldest, wealthiest, and most 
aristocratic congregations was the one that for- 
merly worshiped in the Church of the Upper 
Strata. This edifice, with many others, was de- 
stroyed by the late fire. The congregation has 
erected a much less pretentious house of worship, 
189 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


but one which seats a larger number, and affords 
much better accommodations and appliances for 
aggressive Christian work. The well-known sym- 
pathy of Dr. Goodfellow, the pastor, for the poor 
and neglected classes, led the congregation to dis- 
continue the former name, which was narrow and 
exclusive, and to call the present house the “Church 
of the New Humanity.” It is a most remarkable 
fact that nearly the entire congregation have come 
to the pastor’s way of thinking in regard to evan- 
gelistic work among the neglected masses. Mrs. 
Beverly McCord, a prominent member of the 
Church, has been doing a splendid work in the 
c Wicked Ward/ in which she is supported by her 
husband, one of the wealthiest men of the city, 
and by many others. 

“The dedication was a noted event. It lasted 
from Sabbath to Sabbath. Bishops and clergy- 
men of eight different denominations participated. 
What was most unusual of all was the delivery of 
one of the sermons by Bather Martini, a very lib- 
eral Catholic priest. This gentleman has ex- 
hibited much interest in Mrs. McCord’s work, and, 
indeed, is co-operating with her. His sermon pro- 
duced a profound impression. Many are curious 
190 


A DEDICATION. 


to know what will be the effect upon his standing 
in his own Church, since such a course is in direct 
violation of its rules. Dr. Goodfellow is to be 
congratulated on the success of his ministry in 
this wealthy Church. Only very few men of his 
age attain to such eminent success in so short a 
time.” 

Of course the Unknown Man was present. He 
was assigned the part of reading the Scripture 
lesson and offering prayer. It was remarked that 
his prayer was entirely quoted from the Bible, 
without a word of his own composition being in- 
troduced; and, instead of reading the selected 
lesson, he simply repeated it from memory. He 
seems to know the whole Bible by heart. 

This somewhat singular person has attracted 
no little attention in the city. The reporters have 
repeatedly attempted to interview him, but with 
no success. Finally, the most enterprising paper 
of the city, which has never met with failure in 
interviewing distinguished men, ordered one of 
its reporters to “run this man down,” and to find 
out who he was, where he was from, what was his 
business, who paid him, and what he meant by his 
erratic course, failing in which, he would be dis- 
191 


CIIURCII OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


missed from the reportorial service. He set about 
his work with his usual perseverance. He did 
not know where the Unknown Man lived ; nobody 
did; so he stationed himself on a street where he 
was often seen. Soon he came along, when the 
reporter accosted him thus: 

Reporter — “Will you walk into the restau- 
rant, sir, and have some refreshments, and kindly 
give me some account of your work?” 

The Unknown Man said, “I have meat to eat 
that ye know not of,” and walked on. 

The reporter followed him, plying his ques- 
tions on the wing. 

Reporter — “Would you kindly give me your 
name ?” 

Unknown Man — “To him that overcometh 
will I give to eat of the hidden manna, and will 
give him a white stone, and in the stone a new 
name written, which no man knoweth saving he 
that receiveth it.” 

Q. — “May I inquire something concerning 
your origin ? Who was your father ?” 

A . — “Consider how great this man was ; with- 
out father, without mother, without descent, hav- 
ing neither beginning of days, nor end of life.” 

192 


A DEDICATION. 


Q. — “Well, what is your business ?” 

A. — “My meat is to do the will of Him that 
sent me. Know ye not that I must he about my 
Father’s business?” 

Q. — “May I ask who supports you in this 
work ?” 

A. — “Whosoever shall give to drink unto one 
of these little ones a cup of cold water only in the 
name of a disciple, verily I say unto you, he shall 
in no wise lose his reward. He that receiveth a 
prophet in the name of a prophet shall receive a 
prophet’s reward.” 

Q. — “Which one of the prophets are you?” 

A. — “I am no prophet, neither am I a proph- 
et’s son.” 

Q. — “Well, do tell me what you expect to 
accomplish by your erratic methods.” 

A. — “The preaching of the cross is to them 
that perish foolishness; but unto us which are 
saved, it is the power of God.” “What I do thou 
knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.” 
“Grace, mercy, and truth be with thee. Fare- 
well.” 

With these words he shot around the corner, 
and was soon out of sight. The reporter handed 
13 193 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


the interview to the managing editor, with the 
remark: “I give it up. Pay me off and I ’ll go.” 
The editor read it, and said: “Good. That will 
pass. We ’ll publish that in full, double-leaded. 
Go on with your work. You ’re all right.” When 
the interview appeared in the paper, it sent sev- 
eral thousand persons to their Bibles to study the 
meaning and connections of the quotations from 
the Scriptures. Thus the press unwittingly helped 
to promote the reading of the Bible, and en- 
shrouded the Unknown Man in still greater mys- 
tery. 


194 


XXV. 


MR. BEVERLY McCORD CONSULTS DR. GOOD- 
FELLOW. 

Mr. Beverly McCord, with several other 
gentlemen of large means, had been seriously con- 
sidering for some time what would be the wisest 
and most useful disposition to make of a large 
sum of money which they had at command. It 
was agreed among them that Mr. McCord should 
consult Dr. Goodfellow in the matter. Accord- 
ingly he called at his study for that purpose. 

“Dr. Goodfellow,” he said, “I have been won- 
derfully prospered in my business. I now have 
five hundred thousand dollars to dispose of, where 
it will do the most good. I have distributed 
twenty per cent of my profits among the operatives 
of my factory, in addition to their regular wages. 
I therefore feel that I can justly invest this surplus 
where it will bring comfort and happiness to 
others.” 

“I am delighted,” said Dr. Goodfellow, “to 
hear of your prosperity, your justice toward your 
195 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


employees, and your liberal thought concerning 
others. It is just what I would expect of a large- 
hearted Christian man of business.” 

“I have five friends,” continued Mr. McCord, 
“who do not desire their names to be known, who 
have each one hundred thousand dollars that they 
wish to add to mine, making a total of one million, 
which we desire to place where it will produce the 
largest possible immediate and permanent good to 
others. I have called in behalf of my friends, and 
for myself, to consult with you on the subject.” 

“Well, I must confess,” said Dr. Goodfellow, 
“that you confer upon me an unexpected honor, 
as well as devolve upon me a most grave respon- 
sibility, in soliciting my counsel in the disposition 
of so large a sum of money. But I shall be glad 
to do anything in my power to help you and your 
worthy friends to a wise conclusion. I have no 
doubt, Mr. McCord, that you have some convic- 
tions and some possible plans in your own mind, 
and I would be pleased to have you make them 
known to me, if you deem it proper, and we will 
talk them over.” 

Mr. McCord — “Yes, Doctor, I have some ‘con- 
victions,’ and I desire your opinion as to their 
196 


DR. GOODFELLOW CONSULTED. 


soundness. First, I believe that every man should 
make provision for the comfortable support of his 
family, and the continuance of his business, in the 
event of unexpected death. Second, I believe 
that a fair percentage, over and above what is nec- 
essary for operating expenses, should be equitably 
distributed among his own employees, and that the 
remainder should be invested where it will do the 
greatest immediate good to those who need help 
the most. And I hold, further, that every man 
should be his own administrator.” 

Dr. Goodfellow — “Capital! Nothing could 
be more humane and Christlike. Your ‘convic- 
tions’ are all right. Proceed.” 

Mr. McCord — “I am not through yet with my 
‘convictions.’ You have doubtless observed that 
some of the most wealthy men of the day are in- 
vesting their money in colleges, art galleries, and 
public libraries. I do not set myself up as a judge 
of other men. They alone are responsible for the 
use they make of their money. But when I re- 
member the thousands of poor and neglected peo- 
ple in our large cities, who, whether it be their 
fault or their misfortune, are destitute of the com- 
forts, and many of the necessities, of life, it seems 
197 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


to me that such a disposition of money is not the 
wisest, unless as much at least is bestowed for the 
benefit of these needy people. Not one young 
person in a thousand will ever be able to reach a 
college education. And in view of the liberal pro- 
vision made by the State for the education of its 
children in the public schools, I doubt whether 
they need a collegiate education, excepting for 
professional and scientific pursuits. The op- 
pressed masses will certainly never reach the ele- 
vated plane of a college under the present order 
of society. It is easy to see how, without intend- 
ing it, an educated aristocracy may arise as the 
result of this exclusive flow of money into col- 
leges and universities, which will widen the chasm 
between the rich and the poor, unless more is 
done for their betterment.” 

Dr. Goodfellow — “Quite right, Mr. McCord, 
quite right. I fully agree with you. I have 
thought of publicly protesting against this unfair 
direction of private benefactions. I see both the 
injustice and the danger of such exclusive benev- 
olence.” 

Mr. McCord — “As to public libraries: every 
city should have one as soon as her citizens are 
198 


DR. GOODFELLOW CONSULTED. 


able to furnish it. But it should be created and 
supported in the same manner as the public 
schools. Most of the submerged thousands among 
the masses are as yet far below the level of a pub- 
lic library. They have neither taste nor ability 
to appreciate its advantages. Some of the mil- 
lions that rich men are giving for the establish- 
ment of public libraries might wisely be placed so 
as to improve the condition of the poor and neg- 
lected, and lift them to a level where they will 
have the time and the taste to use the advantages 
of a library. To make provision for an increase 
of the intelligence of one class, while nothing is 
being done to uplift the other, only widens the dis- 
tance between them, and adds aggravation to the 
situation. I have not thought, therefore, of in- 
vesting any of my money in either colleges, li- 
braries, or art galleries.” 

Dr. Goodfellow — “I find myself in perfect 
accord with your sentiments and argument. I 
believe you have struck the vital point. The men 
who are making large fortunes to-day in the great 
cities hold the destiny of the Nation in their 
hands. They have the key that will unlock the 
door to a solution of the situation. The cities are 
199 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


the storm-centers. The discontented are there. 
Their number is increasing much more rapidly 
than the other class, relatively. The cities of the 
world are all growing. At the present rate of in- 
crease the cities of America, in 1920, will contain 
ten million more people than the rural districts. 
Unless more effort is successfully directed towards 
the improvement of their industrial, intellectual, 
and religious condition, it is only a question of 
time when the cities will be at the mercy of these 
discontented, angered masses. What will become 
of the colleges, libraries, and art galleries when 
the enraged mob marches the streets with torch 
in hand ? The lessons of history should be heeded. 
Is not the situation appalling, when some rich men 
think it necessary to build a high iron fence 
around their homes and to maintain private de- 
tectives, in order to their personal safety? This 
is ominously suggestive. The large cities control 
the Nation, and when the cities collapse the Na- 
tion will go to pieces. Therefore, patriotism and 
religion, as well as the security of the homes of 
the more prosperous classes, all call loudly upon 
the Church and wealthy men generally, to interest 
themselves actively in lifting the pressure from 
200 


DR. GOODFELLOW CONSULTED. 


our brothers who are down, and can not rise under 
the present order of things.” 

Mr. McCord — “It affords me great satisfaction 
to find my pastor in such hearty agreement with 
all my ‘convictions’ and plans. Indeed, I more 
than suspected as much from the instruction you 
have been giving us from the pulpit. How, it is 
the thought of myself and friends to establish, 
and partially endow, a large religious, social, and 
industrial institution in the ‘Wicked Ward’ of our 
city. As you know, Mrs. McCord has been 
strangely directed and wonderfully blessed in her 
labors among the poor people in that ward. While 
I have not said much, I have been in perfect sym- 
pathy with her, and have cheerfully furnished all 
necessary financial support for the work. I now 
believe that large and permanent buildings should 
be erected, and a suitable endowment provided 
for successfully prosecuting this great movement, 
which grows all the time. I think the policy of 
the Churches in renting a little, uninviting, old 
store-room, and establishing an insignificant weak- 
ling called ‘Our Mission,’ among these vast un- 
churched populations, is like trying to dip the 
ocean dry with a single pail. Such methods will 
201 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


always fail. Besides, this policy generally excites 
the disgust of the people, and estranges them 
more and more from the Churches. They should 
have directly in their midst fine buildings of which 
they will be proud, and thus forestall the possi- 
bility of unfavorable contrast between themselves 
and the people of the rich Churches, which is a 
perpetual cause of irritation. With the fabulous 
wealth of some of the Churches, and with the 
hundreds of capable workers, who are really fos- 
silizing for want of more exercise in religious 
activity, there can no longer be any excuse for 
the patronizing and impoverished attitude of 
Christian people towards these unfortunate sub- 
jects of their sickly missionary zeal. 

“This is only a mere outline of our plans; 
nothing has yet taken definite form. But we are 
prepared to proceed immediately to the purchase 
of a block of ground, centrally located, and to the 
erection of such buildings as may be necessary in 
furthering and making permanent a movement 
which, I think, originated in one of your prayer- 
meeting talks. What do you think of it?” 

Dr. Goodfellow — “I am humbled to think that 
the slightest credit should be ascribed to me for 
202 


DR. GOODFELLOW CONSULTED. 


the origin of such a magnificent enterprise, so 
Christly in its conception and possibilities. Let 
us give the Master all praise, for to him all praise 
belongs. I am glad that I have lived to see this 
day, and to hear these words of wisdom from your 
lips, Mr. McCord. You need no advice from me. 
The Master is leading you. Follow him. And 
wherein I can serve in carrying out your Christly 
plans, do not fail to use me.” 

Mr. McCord reported the result of this inter- 
view to his colleagues, who were much gratified 
to have the sympathy and support of so prominent 
a reformer as Dr. Goodfellow. They proceeded 
at once to lay their plans before an architect, with 
instructions to furnish specifications and drawings 
accordingly. Then they visited the “ Wicked 
Ward,” and after thoroughly inspecting the 
ground, they found an entire block occupied by 
old, rickety tenement-houses, which belonged to 
an estate, and had long been advertised for sale ; 
this they purchased at quite a low price. Next 
they engaged a competent contractor and builder 
to superintend the construction of the proposed 
buildings, with direction to give all the work he 
could to the laboring-men of the ward, so as to 
203 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


distribute as much money as possible among them. 
The old tenements were immediately removed, 
and given without charge to the people for fuel. 
The excavations proceeded without delay, and 
soon the work was well under way. The block 
was large enough to furnish ground for walks, 
lawns, flower-beds, fountains ; in short, everything 
that would tend to the improvement of taste and 
the purification of life. 


204 


XXVI. 

A DINNER TO BUD AND HIS MOTHER. 

Notwithstanding Jennie had been found and 
brought home by a newsboy, Mrs. Patterson had 
abated but little of her feeling of opposition to 
the street fraternity. But in deference to Jennie’s 
wish she had consented to have Bud and his 
mother at her home for dinner. This was indeed 
a great concession for a proud, high-minded 
woman, such as she was. When Mrs. McCord had 
suggested to her that, perhaps, some day she 
“might desire to give a dinner to The poor, the 
lame, the maimed, the blind,’ ” she answered, 
“Never,” with sharply-pronounced emphasis. But 
she did not then know the experience that was in 
waiting for her. No one does. Time and circum- 
stances work unexpected changes. Many a one 
has said, “I will not go,” and then afterwards 
went. Mrs. Patterson still had much to learn. 
She had not yet graduated from the school of ex- 
perience. 


205 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


The change in the appearance of Bud’s mother 
since Mrs. McCord first met her was very great. 
She was now a prim, neatly-dressed lady of middle 
age. Bud had lost most of the characteristics of 
a newsboy. He was now a handsome, well- 
dressed, intelligent-looking boy of eighteen. He 
had made remarkable progress in his studies at 
school. He had quickly developed into a bright, 
industrious business lad, quite useful in the office 
in many ways. When they arrived at Mrs. Pat- 
terson’s, pursuant to her invitation to dinner, 
there was nothing in their appearance to indicate 
their humble origin. It was the desire of Mrs. 
Patterson to have the Unknown Man with them 
also ; but he was nowhere to be found. Mrs. Mc- 
Cord, however, was present. Jennie was delighted 
to have Bud at her own home. She took him all 
over the premises, commenting on the paintings 
and statuary ; walking up and down the beautiful 
paths in the yard. 

“ Jennie,” said Bud, “you have a nice home. 
I am so glad I found you when you were lost, and 
brought you back to your own home. What an 
awful thing it would have been if you had been 
kept in that saloon !” 


206 


DINNER TO BUD AND HIS MOTHER. 


“0, Bud, I can never pay you for finding me, 
and getting me out of that wicked place, and away 
from those bad men,” said Jennie, while the tears 
stood in her eyes. “Say, Bud, would n’t you like 
to live in a house like this ?” 

“Indeed I would,” answered Bud; “but I can 
never hope for that. You know I am a poor boy, 
and my mother is poor, and I have no father.” 

“O, do n’t be discouraged, Bud. I heard Mr. 
McCord say the other day that you would make 
one of the best business men in the city, and that 
in a few years you could have any place you 
wanted in his factory,” said Jennie, as she looked 
with her big blue eyes straight into his handsome, 
manly face, which had crimsoned a little at this 
unexpected darting of another ray of hope into his 
young life. 

“Say, Bud,” continued Jennie, as she cast her 
eyes downward, “have you bought that house yet 
with the gold papa gave you ? Kemember we may 
want to live in it some day.” 

“Jennie,” answered Bud with some animation, 
as he looked directly into her bewitching eyes, 
“what did you mean that day when you said that ?” 

“O, nothing,” replied J ennie, tossing her 
207 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


auburn tresses over her shoulders, “maybe some 
day you ’ll understand better.” 

The dinner hour had arrived, and they were 
called into the house. Mrs. Patterson was an ac- 
complished lady, notwithstanding her pride was 
wounded a little by having people beneath her 
social grade at a formal dinner in her home. And 
so she studied to make herself agreeable and her 
guests comfortable. After they had departed, 
and Mr. Patterson had returned from business, 
she said to him: 

“Husband, I regret to see quite a friendship 
growing between Bud and Jennie. Indeed, I fear 
that even now, young as they are, it is becoming 
more than mere friendship. Why, Jennie wants 
to talk about him all the time. And she has sev- 
eral times said, in a joking kind of way, of course, 
that Bud was going to buy a house with the money 
you gave him for them to live in. How I do n’t 
like this at all. We will have to keep them apart. 
I think we had better send Jennie away to school.” 

“O, wife,” suggested Mr. Patterson, “I think 
you are needlessly alarmed. They are very 
young, and will probably outgrow these youthful 
fancies. But even if they do n’t, what of it ? Bud 
208 


DINNER TO BUD AND HIS MOTHER. 


has in him the making of a splendid man. Mr. 
McCord informs me that he is the brightest and 
steadiest boy he ever had in his office. What if 
he is poor? So was I, and so was your father, 
when we were boys. There are many worse things 
than to be poor when you are a boy. Indeed, the 
comparison between industrious, steady poor boys 
and the sons of rich men is much to the credit of 
the first. Better let the youngsters alone, and 
await the developments of time. A few years 
may work great changes. And do n’t forget that, 
but for Bud, Jennie dear might have been worse 
than dead to us.” 

Then picking up the evening paper, Mr. Pat- 
terson said: “I see Father Martini, the Catholic 
priest, who preached at the dedication of our 
church, is having trouble with his bishop. Here 
is a little correspondence between them that 
sparkles with sharp points.” He read: 

“Reverend Father Martini: 

“ Dear Father , — It has caused me great pain 
and mortification to learn that you have been 
affiliating with Protestant heretics in religious 
services and charitable work. I am the more sur- 
prised at this when I remember your great knowl- 
14 209 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


edge of the traditions and policy of the Holy 
Catholic Church. You certainly have not forgot- 
ten that the blessed Holy Church, the mother of 
us all, holds and propagates the only true and 
saving faith, through His Holiness the Pope ; that 
all other teaching is but as straw and stubble 
which will be burned; that all other teachers are 
in darkness. How can the blind lead the blind 
without both falling into the ditch? I hope it is 
not true of you, as of some others, that you are 
seeking after new things to gain cheap notoriety. 
As a faithful and loyal son in the Gospel, may I 
hope to see you return soon to your place in the 
Church, with due humility, penance, and confes- 
sion ; and hereafter cease to wander away from 
the arms of your mother, and to disregard the au- 
thority of your superiors. 

“Faithfully yours, 

' “D , 

“ Bishop of the Diocese of Chattahooche.” 

Father Martini’s Reply. 

“To the Bishop of the Diocese of Chatta- 
hoochee : 

“ Dear Bishop , — I acknowledge the due re- 
ceipt of your loving epistle. It gives me un- 
speakable pain to think you capable of such nar- 
rowness. I had supposed that at least some of 
210 


DINNER TO BUD AND HIS MOTHER. 

our bishops were men of large sympathy and 
independent thought. But I perceive that you are 
still in the bonds of a fallible ecclesiasticism, 
walking in the darkness of the sixteenth century. 
Has it never occurred to you that the wants of 
humanity are greater than the ability of the Holy 
Church to relieve them, especially with its cum- 
brous machinery? Pardon me for saying that 
you are less the Christly man I supposed you to 
be, if your heart of love is not broader and deeper 
than the Church. I am sure mine is; nor will I 
check its expansion or quench its burning when I 
see the multitudes perishing for lack of knowledge 
and sympathetic help. Must I run for holy 
vestments, Churchly rubrics, priestly parchments, 
episcopal permissions, before I can help lift up 
a fallen brother or sister? Your Master and 
mine said, ‘Other sheep have I that are not of this 
fold.’ Will you stand by and let them die be- 
cause, forsooth, they do not come inside of your 
sheepfold ? I will not, God being my helper. The 
Lord Christ is more to me than any Church. His 
authority over me is final — higher than that of 
bishop, council, or pope. When I see an ox in 
the ditch I will first help him out, and run for 
the ‘authority’ afterwards, when there are no more 
oxen down. I love my Church, and am loyal to 
the truth she holds, and obedient to her rightful 
authority; but when she annuls the word of my 

m 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


Master, she ceases to be his mouthpiece, and I am 
free from her jurisdiction. I am not forgetful 
of my constant need of mercy, and I humble my- 
self before my Divine Master, and confess my 
shortcomings to him, with due repentance. I do 
not love my Church less, but I love my Lord more. 
I shall continue, as heretofore, to affiliate with all 
good people who work in his name. 

“Faithfuly your son, 

“Giuseppe Martini.” 

This spicy exchange of sentiment brought the 
Catholic priest at once into still greater promi- 
nence, and widened his field of usefulness. Invi- 
tations to speak poured in upon him from all parts 
of the city and adjacent country, and thousands 
flocked to hear him preach the gospel who, until 
recently, knew nothing of his existence. 


212 


XXVII. 


INTERESTING DISCUSSION ON LOVE. 

Miss Josephine McCord had been duly recog- 
nized by the society friends of the family, after 
her return from school, by numerous receptions, 
luncheons, and other functions. Her beauty of 
person and accomplishment of mind were gener- 
ally admitted and admired. Probable candidates 
for her special attention were already within range 
of the vision of those who make it their business 
to prophesy. The calls of Dr. Goodfellow at the 
McCord residence were becoming more frequent 
than ordinary pastoral visits. Drives in the parks 
and on the lake boulevards were now of occasional 
occurrence. The mutual satisfaction of the par- 
ties to these visits and excursions was becoming 
more and more apparent. What thoughts and 
visions flitted through their minds no one knew 
but themselves. There was in their short ac- 
quaintance that happy concurrence of conditions 
and circumstances that would, perhaps, give wings 
213 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


to fancy and flight to imagination, beyond what 
either would care to admit. She was handsome, 
educated, mature, eligible. He was likewise. To 
suppose that she was indifferent to him as an 
available friend, if nothing more, would be to sup- 
pose her destitute of that divine instinct which is 
peculiarly the property of a woman. To suppose 
him to be blind to her charms of person, her fin- 
ished culture, her social standing, would be to sup- 
pose him deficient in that keen penetration into 
the “fitness of things” which usually characterizes 
a man of good judgment when he holds any seri- 
ous thought concerning the selection of a com- 
panion for his life work. Host of the essential 
elements of a desirable matrimonial alliance were 
present. First, the family record of each was 
known to the other, and needed no further investi- 
gation. In this respect no risk would be involved. 
Second, by training and age they were both fitted 
for the responsibilities of married life. Third, 
they were both available. As to this last point, 
however, neither knew anything of the possible 
obligations of the other. Indeed, while probably 
all these thoughts were active in the breasts of 
both, neither had any reason whatever to suspect 
214 


DISCUSSION OF LOVE. 


that the other shared in such dreamy abstractions. 
If either had been charged with entertaining such 
reflections, a prompt denial would no doubt have 
followed. It is in the nature of Cupid’s first ap- 
proaches that the real feeling of both parties shall 
be concealed until a considerable period of angling 
shall have elapsed. After the damming up, for 
a longer or shorter time, of the holiest emotions 
of the heart, until love is seized with an irresist- 
ible desire for expression, the overflow of the 
dam, or the bursting of the reservoir, sometimes 
called a “confession,” takes place, — as if it were 
a crime to reveal the honest impulses of the heart 
in a matter of such supreme import. Whether 
these two interesting characters shall be obliged 
to pay the penalty of modern social form, before 
a proper understanding shall be reached, doth not 
yet appear. Indeed, whether this apparently op- 
portune acquaintance shall ever evolve anything 
that will permanently survive the usual connubial 
calisthenics, depends entirely upon matters that 
can not now be recorded. It should be stated, 
however, in order to the reader’s better under- 
standing of the problem, that Miss Josephine does 
not admit to herself, for a moment, that she could 
215 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


ever become the wife of a clergyman. That kind 
of life is not to her taste. She has said to herself, 
many times, that if the distant imaginations of her 
fancy should ever become a realization, Dr. Good- 
fellow would have to abandon the ministry and 
give himself to some secular pursuit. Besides 
this, her peculiar views on religion would forever 
be a cause of irritation between them. Dr. Good- 
fellow, while keenly alive to the good qualities 
of her character, is just as clear in his conviction 
that the wife of a clergyman should be in perfect 
accord with her husband in all things religious 
and ecclesiastical, and that, therefore, Miss Jo- 
sephine would have to undergo a change of mind 
on some things, before a matrimonial consumma- 
tion, however devoutly wished for, could become 
an actuality. 

With this review of the situation, Dr. Good- 
fellow and Miss McCord are together in the parlor 
at her home. Dr. Goodfellow is an expert in 
writing and delivering sermons and lectures. His 
readiness of speech and smooth flow of language 
always make him interesting and restful as a 
speaker. But in matters of love he was without 
experience. This was a field that he had not yet 
216 


DISCUSSION OF LOVE. 


explored. Everything was new to him here, albeit 
quite appetizing. He was also a man of unusual 
modesty, never hasty in entering upon new pur- 
suits or walking in untried paths. He had come 
to a place, however, in his acquaintance with Miss 
Josephine, where he thought both duty and desire 
called for some conversation on amatory affairs. 
But he was at an utter loss how to introduce the 
subject. Miss Josephine observed his embarrass- 
ment, and, with that alertness for which women 
are noted on such occasions, sought to relieve him 
as much as possible. Finally, her name suggested 
to him a key that might open the way. 

“I suppose, Miss Josephine,” said he, “that 
you get your name from the first wife of Hapo- 
leon, who had not only a beautiful name, but was 
a lovely character as well;” and then he drew a 
long breath, and changed position in his chair, as 
if a tremendous load had been lifted from his 
mind. 

“Ho, I can not say that my parents chose the 
name for that reason, though it is quite satisfac- 
tory to me,” said Miss McCord. “I, nevertheless, 
have always admired the character of Josephine, 
and sympathized with her in the great wrong her 
217 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


heartless husband inflicted upon her when he put 
her away for ‘state considerations/ ” 

“Do you really think that Napoleon loved 
Josephine?” ventured the doctor, as his face took 
on a tinge of peach-blossom hue ; for this was the 
first time he had uttered the word “love” in the 
presence of Miss McCord, and it sounded to him 
like the report of a cannon. 

Miss Josephine at once warmed up to the sub- 
ject, and declared her conviction that such a tyrant 
as the French emperor was utterly incapable of 
the “tender passion,” purposely avoiding the use 
of the word “love” out of regard for the evident 
embarrassment of the young pastor. 

“Well, I have no doubt he was a cold man,” 
said the doctor ; “but I believe he was the subject 
of a strangely bewitching power from Josephine, 
and that he committed as great a crime against 
his own heart as he did against his charming wife, 
when he divorced her for another, or rather for 
the empire. His second marriage to Maria Louisa 
of Austria, of course, was only a matter of con- 
venience. But he paid dearly for his folly.” This 
was said without restraint, his usual freedom re- 
turning to him as he entered the field of history. 

218 


DISCUSSION OF LOVE. 


“Do you think Maria Louisa had any real love 
for him ?” inquired J osephine. 

At the mention of the word “love” Dr. Good- 
fellow perceptibly stirred in his chair, as if taken 
with a sudden pain in the region of the heart. 
“Quite possibly,” he replied. “It does not seem 
hard for a woman to love a great character like 
Napoleon, you know.” 

“I can not say that I do know,” declared Jo- 
sephine. “I only have an opinion that the mar- 
riage was merely a business transaction, of the 
royal kind, with no heart in it.” 

“Well, these royal people have some advan- 
tage over us common folks,” declared the pastor, 
“especially on the woman’s side.” 

“In what way?” inquired Miss McCord. 

“Why, I understand it is the privilege of a 
queen or a princess to make her own selection of a 
husband, not waiting for solicitation from the 
other sex first. Queen Victoria is said to have 
proposed marriage to Prince Albert.” 

“That has been denied. But if it is true, the 
privilege is of questionable value, especially to the 
sex at large,” rejoined Miss Josephine, with a 
somewhat serious look. 

219 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


“It certainly would be a relief to bashful men, 
if it were permissible for ladies to take the initi- 
ative in such embarrassing matters/’ suggested 
the doctor, with a deep inspiration, which at- 
tracted the attention of Miss Josephine. x\fter a 
short pause he proceeded: “By the way, what is 
this that I read sometimes in the magazines about 
Platonic love? What kind of love is that?” He 
had sufficiently recovered himself to pronounce 
the word “love” without trepidation, and was 
comparatively calm. 

“I guess it is a kind of cold, intellectual re- 
gard for another, that does not involve the heart, 
which even married persons, it is claimed, can 
innocently entertain. But I do n’t want that 
kind,” affirmed Josephine, with emphasis. 

“Neither do I,” protested Dr. Goodfellow, as 
he brought his open hand down on his knee. “I 
want the genuine thing or nothing.” And now 
since the discussion of the subject was fairly 
opened, he went on to inquire: “I wonder how 
love originates? Is it an evolution; a survival 
of the fittest ; a coaxing out from its place of con- 
cealment of an already existing principle, passion, 
or sentiment, when the conditions are favorable, 
220 


DISCUSSION OF LOVE . 


like the silent unfolding of the bud into the bloom 
and beauty of the rose ? A strange thing it seems 
to be. I wonder how one feels when one be- 
comes the victim of this bewitching passion?” 

The pastor was now well under way, and could 
have gone on in this delightful strain indefinitely, 
but for the interruption of Miss Josephine with 
the remark: “From the way you talk, Dr. Good- 
fellow, one might think you were either in love 
yourself, or in danger of being entangled in the 
meshes of Cupid,” at which the pastor flushed 
more than ever, and began to cough quite vigor- 
ously. 

Miss McCord thought this a favorable time 
to divert the conversation to a matter that inter- 
ested her no little; and so she ventured the sug- 
gestion: “Dr. Goodfellow, I would think that a 
gentleman of your ability and attainments would 
give your attention exclusively to the lecture field, 
or to scientific and literary pursuits, where the 
compensation would be more liberal, and where 
you could be independent and not the servant of 
everybody, as you must be in your present call- 
ing.” 

“I am not a clergyman for the money there 
221 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


is in it,” promptly answered the pastor. “I could 
command double the salary I am now receiving 
if I wanted more money. I am in my present 
pastorate from a sense of duty. It is no restric- 
tion of my liberty to be the servant of others. 
I am not above my Master. It is my greatest joy 
to contribute to the happiness of others. I shall 
always be a preacher of righteousness from glad- 
some acquiescence in a Divine call and order. 
I envy your blessed mother for the Christly work 
she is doing among the poor, and your liberal- 
minded father for his princely plans for the im- 
provement of these same people.” 

Miss Josephine had struck a sensitive chord in 
the heart of her pastor. She perceptibly dropped 
her head as she listened to his eloquent words 
of reply. The true man sprang to the front when 
touched at a point so vital to him. Evidently 
she did not understand him, or she never would 
have made the suggestion. The time having ar- 
rived for ending the interview, Josephine accom- 
panied him to the door. He kindly said, “Good- 
night.” She said the same, with the addition, 
“Call again, Doctor. We are always glad to see 
our pastor.” 


222 


DISCUSSION OF LOVE. 


When Josephine retired to her room, she 
threw herself on the bed, and soliloquized thus: 
“Why was I so foolish as to suggest that he might 
give up his calling as a minister? I never sup- 
posed he was so attached to his work. I have 
misunderstood him. I am afraid I have offended 
and hurt him. I wonder if he will come again? 
I am utterly unworthy of such a man. His senti- 
ments are so lofty and his life so pure, that I feel 
far beneath him. I fear there is a chasm between 
us that can never be bridged. O dear! what a 
mistake I have made ! How can I recall my un- 
wise words?” 

When Dr. Goodfellow left the door of the 
McCord residence for his apartments the stars 
cast a mellow radiance of soft light over the trees ; 
the moon’s shimmering gleams distinctly printed 
the outline of objects on the street; the noise of 
an occasional passing cab could be heard; the 
steady tread of the night-watchman, as he paced 
slowly over his accustomed beat, was distinct ; the 
electric lamp threw elongated shadows on the side- 
walk and street ; here and there a dim flame could 
be seen through the partially open window-shut- 
ter; the city clock pealed out the hour of night, 
223 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


like a faithful sentinel standing vigil on a lofty 
tower. But none of these things were observed 
by the returning pastor. His thoughts were other- 
wise occupied. A voice within was saying: “What 
made me so weak? What have I done that I 
should be embarrassed at the mention of the word 
dove V I wonder what is the matter with me ! 
She must have noticed my trepidation. I wonder 
if she meant that my calling would be in the way 
of our union for life ! I wonder if it will be pos- 
sible for her to change her views on religion, 
and become a humble disciple of the Nazar ene ! 
We shall see. With Him all things are possible. 
He will direct my steps. I will trust him and not 
make haste.” 


224 


XXVIII. 

HOW A SOCIALIST CLUB WAS DISBANDED. 

A strong Socialist Club was in existence in 
the “Wicked Ward/’ which held weekly meetings 
for the consideration of matters pertaining to their 
principles and purposes. The subject for the cur- 
rent week was the relation of the Church to the 
condition of the poor man and the wage-earner. 
It having become known to Dr. Goodfellow and 
the Unknown Man that this subject was to be 
considered, they were both present. The room 
was packed with a company of men, most of whom 
had passed the meridian of life. They wore the 
marks of toil on their hands, and of earnestness 
and discontent on their faces. It was manifest 
from their appearance, as well as from their 
speech, that they were not pleased with the exist- 
ing economic and social order. There was about 
them the air of injured men. They had much 
to say of their “rights.” They were not hope- 
ful of a better day by the slow process of evolu- 
15 225 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


tion. Prophecies of “revolution,” redolent of por- 
tentous menace and angry defiance, were of fre- 
quent utterance, like the distant mutterings of 
approaching storm. A number of persons of 
foreign birth could be seen, whose grievances had 
their root in soils beyond the sea. With some 
exceptions, the spirit of honest purpose seemed to 
prevail, but the spirit of reverence was notably 
absent. Extreme sensitiveness as to their per- 
sonal rights was ever in the foreground, but re- 
spect for their mutual privileges as members of 
the Club was as unappreciable as in any ordinary 
political or religious assembly. One not in sym- 
pathy with their sentiments and methods would 
be ill at ease in their presence. Their mode of 
warfare on established institutions was much like 
the attack of the Chinese on an enemy — it was 
largely the boldness and bluster of noise, without 
reason or coolness. And yet, listening to their 
discussion, one could but feel that most of these 
men were sincere, and that they had a case of real 
or imaginary wrong, mostly real; and that they 
needed, above all else, wise counsel and com- 
petent leadership. As Dr. Goodfellow heard 
them talk, he said, “Poor men ! how I wish I could 


A SOCIALIST CLUB DISBANDED. 


conduct them out of the meshes into which they 
have fallen, to the True Light and Way!” 

The president of the Club called them to 
order, and announced the theme of the evening, 
with the statement that any one was at liberty to 
speak briefly on any phase of the subject that 
seemed to him to need ventilation. No time was 
lost or wasted. Such men are full of grievances 
and always ready to speak. The following are 
samples of the addresses. The first speaker was 
a mechanic, and had been a Church member. He 
said: 

“The Church has nothing for me. I have 
tried it, and I am disappointed and tired of its 
hypocrisy. A few years ago I was sick for weeks, 
and not a member entered my house during my 
illness. The pastor came once and offered a few 
words of prayer; but never inquired if there was 
bread in the house for wife and children. When 
a little later the Church permitted old Brother L. 
to go to the poorhouse, I thought it was time for 
me to make some provision for the future, that 
my family might not suffer in case of my death. 
So I joined a secret society, and attend its meet- 
ings every week instead of the Church, and pay 
227 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


my money there. If I am sick I am cared for. 
Watchers are with me when needed. If I should 
die I will have decent burial. This is all the 
Church I want.” 

These remarks were greeted with applause. 
This address was followed by a speaker of con- 
siderable ability, on this wise: 

“What has the Church in common with the 
poor man? What sympathy has it for the sun- 
burned, plainly-dressed wage-earner and his 
family ? Eighty per cent of its members are rich, 
or well-to-do. Look at the splendid temples, cost- 
ing millions, in which they profess to worship 
God ! Look at the marble palaces in which many 
of them reside! Do you suppose they would 
enter the miserable hovels in which many of us 
are compelled to herd? Ho, sir; they would not 
soil their fine clothes in that way. Do you think 
they want us in their grand churches? Ho, sir; 
they do not. A recent writer, himself a Church- 
man, says: ‘Go into the ordinary church on Sun- 
day morning, and you see lawyers, merchants, 
and business men with their families; you see 
teachers, salesmen, and clerks, and a certain pro- 
portion of educated mechanics; but the working- 
228 


A SOCIALIST CLUB DISBANDED. 


man and his household are not there. It is doubt- 
ful if one in twenty of the average congregation 
in English-speaking city churches fairly belongs to 
this class.’ The writer then tells the story of a 
newspaper reporter in the garb of a respectable- 
looking laborer who presented himself for ad- 
mission at each of the principal churches in the 
city. At some he was treated with positive rude- 
ness ; at others with cold politeness. Only one or 
two gave him a cordial, and, even then, a some- 
what surprised, welcome. Ho, sir; Mr. Presi- 
dent, they do not want us in their fine churches. 
[Cheers.] True, they w^ould not forget us alto- 
gether. One of the bishops of the richest Church 
in America said in a paper on the ‘Estrangement 
of the Masses from the Church/ ‘Wherever the 
people are, in our close-packed cities, or in our 
far Western regions, let the plain chapel exist 
for them .’ Yes, sir ; that ’s the policy of the 

Church. Costly temples for the rich ; plain 
chapels for the poor! Why ‘plain chapels?’ We 
could hardly expect the rich to be satisfied with 
‘plain chapels,’ such as they propose to furnish 
the poor, but we might ask them to divide with 
us the cost of their expensive temples and give 
229 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


ns churches to worship in that we and our chil- 
dren will not be ashamed of. Give us fifty thou- 
sand of the hundred thousand dollars, or more, 
that many of them cost, and we will build five 
neat, commodious ‘chapels’ to their one, and hold 
up our heads when we go to church.” 

Great applause followed as the speaker sat 
down. Several of the members about him en- 
thusiastically shook his hand, patting him on the 
shoulders and remarking, “You ’re a thorough- 
bred, old fellow; you ought to go to Congress.” 
The next gentleman on the floor was a wiry little 
fellow, with a squeaky voice, who desired to call 
attention to the condition of the tenement-houses. 

“Mr. President, I read in the newspapers the 
other day this statement, made by a distinguished 
divine and a friend of the poor. He said: ‘The 
overcrowding in our great cities makes impossible, 
not only refinement, but even decency in the dis- 
tricts where the poor live. I made a recent in- 
vestigation in the city of Hew York myself. I 
went into one room, not more than ten by twelve 
feet, in which there were eighteen people, men, 
women, and children, that ate and lived and slept 
in that room. And they were not only men and 
230 


A SOCIALIST CLUB DISBANDED. 


women, but they were blacks and whites, gathered 
together in the same apartment/ Mr. President, 
I have lived in some of these holes where human 
beings are crowded together like cattle in a stock- 
car, and I know what it means. The condition 
of the water-closets, the foulness of the air, the 
filth of the back yards and alleys, the indecency 
of speech, the unchasteness of conduct, are an 
abomination and a stench that would surprise 
one in the wilds of Africa. And yet, sir, I am 
told that some of these foul tenements are owned 
by rich Church members, who live in costly man- 
sions, and whose only interest in the people that 
live in these pens is to collect their rent. [Ap- 
plause.] Besides this, sir, when we wage-earners 
make an effort to secure better wages, in order 
to live in some kind of comfort and raise our 
children in decency, the rich of the Church are 
generally on the side of our oppressors, if, in- 
deed, they are not the guilty parties themselves. 
Is it any wonder, sir, that we do n’t attend the 
churches? I wish some of these smooth-faced, 
white-necktied, well-fed parsons were here that 
they could hear what we have to say, and answer 
for their heartless Churches. [Significant glances 
231 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


toward Dr. Goodfellow.] Who wants to have 
anything to do with Jesns Christ while in the 
hands of such people? If the Bible sustains the 
hypocrisy, heartlessness, neglect of the poor, and 
pandering to the rich that characterize most of the 
modern Churches, I do n ? t want my children to 
have anything to do with them. 

“Suppose, Mr. Chairman, we poor people 
should want to go to church, where would they 
put us, and what would they do with us? In 
Berlin, with a million and a half of people, there 
are less than seventy-five churches, or about one 
church for every 20,000 people. In the great 
Christian city of London, with over five millions 
population, there is one church for about every 
3,000. In our own Boston, the supposed ‘hub’ 
of intelligence, philanthropy, and civilization, 
there is only one church to every 1,600 people. 
In Chicago, there is one to every 2,000. In New 
York, one to every 2,500; and in St. Louis, one 
to every 2,800. In the most thoroughly-Chris- 
tianized city in the world the churches would not 
hold half the people if they wanted to attend. 
And yet there is money enough represented in 
these religious houses to furnish a comfortable 
232 


A SOCIALIST CLUB DISBANDED. 


place of worship for every five hundred of the 
population. Does this indicate that Christians 
want to reach and help the poor? 

“Furthermore, Mr. President, look how these 
religious people flee from the commercial centers 
and the abodes of the poor, as if they feared the 
visitation of some pestilence. Says a great bishop, 
well known throughout the world: America is 
the only country on the earth where the city 
church possesses the monstrosity of a frequent 
flitting day. In Rome it is never thought of, that, 
because St. Peter’s has to be reached by a bridge, 
and to reach the bridge one must go through dark 
and filthy streets, therefore St. Peter’s should be 
removed to a more desirable location. In Vienna, 
St. Stephen is in the midst of darker and more re- 
pellent streets; yet it is never urged against it 
that it is too far down-town. In Berlin and Paris 
the same rules applies. St. Paul’s, in London, is 
within two or three blocks of the money center 
of the world, and is surrounded still, as centuries 
ago, by small shops, while the city stages and cabs 
run around it, and make a perpetual din on every 
side. Yet the people go from palace and noble 
residence far away to get to that beautiful temple. 

233 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


St. Margaret’s and Westminster are by no means 
in the midst of fine residences. Yet all these 
places are visited by people of every class.’ 

“Now, Mr. President, if the Christians of this 
country want to save the poor, why do they run 
away from them when they happen to settle near 
their churches, selling their places of worship for 
business purposes, and fleeing ‘up town’ as from 
an avenging army? Possibly the ‘avenger’ may 
pursue them some day. The facts I have pre- 
sented in my remarks are from Christian men 
themselves, and should be accepted as reliable. 
They constitute a most withering condemnation 
of the Church, her own friends being the wit- 
nesses. Yes, sir; there is something wrong, and 
we must continue to agitate until we secure jus- 
tice.” 

Great and prolonged applause greeted the 
speaker as he closed, during which most of the 
members rose to their feet and shook hands with 
each other. Excitement was running high. A 
few suspicious eyes were fixed upon Dr. Good- 
fellow and the Unknown Man, they being 
strangers, and not joining in the demonstration. 
The president rapped for order, and the members 
234 


A SOCIALIST CLUB DISBANDED. 


took their seats again. Slowly the Unknown Man 
rose. In clear, sonorous tones, with startling ac- 
centuation and masterful self-possession, he be- 
gan: 

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because 
he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the 
poor ; he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, 
to preach deliverance to the captives, and recover- 
ing of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them 
that are bruised, to preach the acceptable year 
of the Lord.” 

Then he paused a moment. The eyes of all 
those that were in the hall were fastened upon 
him. Some restlessness was apparent, with a dis- 
position to interrupt. The president, however, 
brought his mallet down upon the table with 
marked emphasis, and quiet ensued. The speaker 
resumed : 

“Hear the law of the Lord: every creditor 
that lendeth aught unto his neighbor shall release 
it; he shall not exact it of his neighbor, because 
it is called the Lord’s release. 

“If there be among you a poor man of one 
of thy brethren within any of thy gates in thy 
land, which the Lord thy God giveth thee, thou 
235 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


shalt not harden thine heart, nor shut thine hand 
from thy poor brother ; but thou shalt open thine 
hand wide unto him, and shalt surely lend him 
sufficient for his need, in that which he wanteth. 
For the poor shall never cease out of the land; 
therefore I command thee, saying, Thou shalt 
open thine hand wide unto thy brother, to thy 
poor, and to thy needy in thy land.” 

By this time interest in the strange man and 
the speech was becoming intense, and all were 
leaning forward to catch every word, with a sur- 
prised look in their faces. The Unknown Man 
proceeded: 

“Thou shalt not oppress a hired servant that 
is poor and needy, whether he be of thy brethren 
or of thy strangers that are within thy land within 
thy gates. At his day thou shalt give him his 
hire, neither shall the sun go down upon it.” 

“When thou cuttest down thy harvest in thy 
field, and hast forgot a sheaf in the field, thou 
shalt not go again to fetch it; it shall be for the 
stranger, for the fatherless, and for the widow; 
that the Lord thy God may bless thee in all the 
work of thine hands. When thou beatest thine 
olive-tree, thou shalt not go over the boughs 
236 


A SOCIALIST CLUB DISBANDED . 


again ; it shall be for the stranger, for the father- 
less, and for the widow. When thon gatherest 
the grapes of thy vineyard, thon shalt not glean 
it afterward; it shall be for the stranger, for the 
fatherless, and for the widow. 

“And when ye reap the harvest of your land, 
thon shalt not wholly reap the corners of thy 
field, neither shalt thou gather the gleanings of 
thy harvest; thou shalt leave them for the poor 
and the stranger. I am the Lord your God.” 

At this point a German anarchist, who had 
shown great nervousness and uneasiness during 
the recital of these laws, interrupted the speaker: 

“Mister Shairman,” he cried, with consider- 
able excitement, “I rose up to mine foots to make 
von leetle point of order. I objects to dot mon 
mit vat he says. Dish ish not von of dem con- 
founded churches mit der prayer-meetin’. Dot 
mon he say some dings he ought not to say in 
dish place. I tink he should his speech stop, und 
sot down mit hisself on der floor. Udder gentle- 
mens dot pays der moneys mit dish Club, und 
knows some dings mit der brinciples vich ve tight 
holds on to, should have der brivilege to speak 
sometimes, — anyhow, von little speech vat ve 
237 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


can all him understand. Dot ish right, Mister 
Shairman.” 

The president reminded the gentleman that 
“one of the cardinal principles of the Club is 
freedom of speech, and that he had already an- 
nounced that any one present has the right to take 
part in the discussion. The gentleman on the floor 
is entirely in order, and will kindly proceed.” 

The Unknown Man stood quiet and calm dur- 
ing this interruption, as if nothing had occurred, 
and bowing his thanks to the chairman for his 
courtesy, went on to say : 

“And I will be a swift witness against those 
that oppress the hireling in his wages, the widow 
and the fatherless, and turn aside the stranger 
from his right, and fear not me, saith the Lord 
of hosts. 

“Blessed is he that considereth the poor, the 
Lord will deliver him in time of trouble. 

“The Lord will enter into judgment with the 
ancients of this people and the princes thereof ; 
for ye have eaten up the vineyard; the spoil of 
the poor is in your houses. What mean ye that 
ye grind the faces of the poor, saith the Lord 
God of hosts ? 


238 


A SOCIALIST CLUB DISBANDED. 


“For ye have the poor always with you, but 
me ye have not always. 

“For ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus 
Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes 
he became poor that ye through his poverty might 
be made rich. 

“Only they would that we should remember 
the poor; the same which I was also forward 
to do. 

“Jesus said unto him, If thou wilt be perfect, 
go and sell that thou hast, and give to the poor, 
and thou shalt have treasure in heaven ; and come 
and follow me. But when the young man heard 
that saying, he went away sorrowful; for he had 
great possessions. 

“And Jesus said, Come unto me, all ye that 
labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you 
rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn of me, 
and ye shall find rest unto your souls.” 

As the speaker closed and sat down, the mem- 
bers of the Club were in a state of delightful be- 
wilderment. Some slight applause was mani- 
fested; but there was serious doubt as to which 
side the stranger was on. Some things he said 
were evidently in condemnation of the practice 
239 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


of the Church in neglecting the poor ; other things 
were as clearly in reproof of themselves for not 
giving Christianity credit for its teachings con- 
cerning the poor. They were the more confused 
because the speaker uttered no opinion of his 
own — simply gave them the Word of the Lord 
without comment. They sat for several minutes 
looking at the Unknown Man, then at themselves, 
then at the president. No one seemed to know 
what to say or do. Finally, one gentleman who 
knew Dr. Goodfellow, suggested that there was 
present a distinguished divine and pastor of per- 
haps the wealthiest Church in the city, and he 
moved that he be invited to address the Club. 
The motion was promptly put and carried without 
objection. The president invited Dr. Goodfellow 
to the platform, and he spoke, in part, as fol- 
lows: 

“Mr. Chairman and Brothers, — It surely is a 
very great pleasure to me to be the recipient of 
such courtesy as you have just extended. I count 
it a distinguished honor to speak to a body of 
men who seem to me to be honestly seeking after 
that to which they are entitled by every principle 
of religion and right. [Hear! Hear!] It will 
240 


A SOCIALIST CLUB DISBANDED. 


be one of the pleasantest memories of my life if 
I can in any measure aid you in the attainment 
of your rights. I am guilty of no fulsome friend- 
ship when I say that I sympathize with you most 
heartily in your aims, though I may not agree 
with your methods. While, as has been said, I 
have the honor to be pastor of one of the largest 
and wealthiest Churches in the city, my people 
thoroughly understand my sympathy with you. 
And the feeling of my Church may be indicated 
somewhat by the fact that some of my members 
are now engaged in the expenditure of one million 
dollars in behalf of the poor in this ward . [Long 
applause.] 

“I will not attempt to answer the charges that 
have been made by the speakers who have pre- 
ceded me, against the Church. Some of them 
are incapable of answer or defense. I frankly, 
but in sorrow, confess to their truth. I wish it 
were otherwise. I am doing what I can to remedy 
the evils of which you complain. So are many 
others, in the pulpit and out of it. But some 
things that have been said here are not capable 
of proof. You impress me as honest men, seek- 
ing to know the truth. You will doubtless wel- 
16 241 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


come the correction of any misapprehensions into 
which yon may have fallen. 

“Jesus of Nazareth is the best friend the poor 
man has ever had. He was the son of a mechanic 
and a poor man himself. His teaching, if accepted 
and faithfully followed, would correct all the 
wrongs and ill-adjustments of the world. With 
all her faults and failures, the true Church, in 
the main, is and always has been the friend of 
the poor. The Bible is the Magna Charta of their 
liberty for body, mind, and soul, as shown in the 
recitations of your unknown brother, delivered 
awhile ago. The Church has not always been 
what its Founder desired; nor is it such yet. But 
it is coming nearer the poor man every day. 
With God there is no distinction of persons, and 
in his Church the rich and the poor are alike. 
Thousands upon thousands of the poor are in its 
fold. Some of the very best Churches are com- 
posed almost exclusively of wage-earners. Others, 
it is true, are largely composed of the rich, who 
are not doing their duty to their brothers, by 
whose labor their wealth became possible. But 
thousands of eloquent voices and pens are busy 
all the time, pleading with the rich to help the 
242 


A SOCIALIST CLUB DISBANDED. 


poor to higher wages, shorter hours, lovelier 
homes, better houses, purer air, more comfort- 
able churches, and everything else that will make 
life a benediction to them and their children. 

t 

“Now, my brothers, I have a request to make. 
A grand Christian lady, of much wealth and high 
social standing, a member of my Church, has for 
over a year been laboring among the poor in 
this ward, to ameliorate their condition in every 
way. A few rich men, chief among them the 
husband of this lady, are now erecting immense 
buildings as a center for her work, and to give 
it permanency, at a cost, including endowment, 
of a million of dollars. They will soon be com- 
pleted and ready for occupancy. My request is 
that you will join us in this great work. We need 
you, and you need us. The methods you have 
hitherto used will fail. Ours are succeeding and 
will succeed. Cease your denunciation of the 
Church and the rich, unite your forces with ours, 
and let us show the world how to elevate the 
poor. Come to my church. You shall have any 
seat you wish. Come to the meeting at Oak Hall 
Sunday afternoon. 

“Thanking you again for the kind courtesy 

243 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


you have shown me, and hoping you will give 
me the opportunity to return the same in my own 
church, I close by saying, I am at your service 
to help you in the attainment of anything the 
Great Teacher desires you to have.” 

The most enthusiastic applause followed this 
very wise and brotherly address. It was a revela- 
tion. They had not heard such teaching. Their 
minds had been poisoned with misapprehension 
and prejudice respecting clergymen and the 
Church. They would see more of this man, and 
investigate his methods. Sunday afternoon fol- 
lowing nearly all the members of the Club were 
at Oak Hall. They were delighted with the 
service. Mrs. McCord spoke to each personally, 
and urged all to come again. That night half the 
Club was in Dr. Goodfellow’s Church. The 
ushers had been instructed to be on the lookout 
for plainly-attired men, and to give them the best 
seats in the house. The pastor recognized some 
of them, and publicly thanked them for their 
presence, while he discoursed on “Am I my 
brother’s keeper ?” They were so completely 
overwhelmed with attention — for the congrega- 
tion had by this time thoroughly imbibed the 
244 


A SOCIALIST CLUB DISBANDED. 


sympathy and enthusiasm of their pastor — that 
they were almost ashamed to attend again. But 
they did, and many of them permanently. Quite 
a few enlisted with Mrs. McCord, and became 
her most successful assistants. In six months the 
Club was disbanded. 


245 


XXIX. 


MISS JOSEPHINE AND HER MOTHER AT THE 
OAK HALL MEETING. 

Mrs. McCord’s great work was constantly 
growing on her hands. She had established 
“Mothers’ Meetings” and “Girls’ Meetings” for 
instruction and mutual counsel, which she at- 
tended herself as far as possible. But by this 
time the movement had assumed such proportions 
that she was obliged to call for assistants. The 
response was prompt. The movement was now 
popular. 

Miss Josephine had shown her lack of sym- 
pathy in her mother’s work, even to the extent 
of protesting against her decline of interest in 
high social affairs. But at the last meeting in 
Oak Hall, much to her surprise and gratification, 
Josephine expressed a desire to accompany her 
mother. The meeting was of the usual character. 
Besides Mrs. McCord, the speakers were Father 
Martini, the Unknown Man, and Edward Sher- 
man, the young American who first heard the 
Unknown Man in the Diamond Saloon, and was 
246 


THE OAK HALL MEETING. 


thereby led to a better life. By this time the 
newsboys of the district had been organized into 
a chorus choir and well drilled in singing. They 
were present on this occasion, and added much 
to the interest by their music. Ole Olson had 
developed unusual vocal power, and sang a beau- 
tiful solo entitled “Give the Poor Boy a Chance.” 
Father Martini was a speaker of superior ability, 
and thrilled the audience with his eloquent ad- 
dress. Since his late correspondence with his 
bishop, he seems to have thrown the love of his 
large heart into the work deeper than ever. The 
few words of Edward Sherman were tender and 
pathetic. The Master seems to be fitting him for 
larger usefulness. The audience was strangely 
moved while he spoke. The newboys’ choir sang 
the “Calling of the Boll up There,” which melted 
many to tears. Miss Josephine listened with evi- 
dent interest. Indeed, she was seen brushing the 
silent tear from her eye while the boys were 
singing. But she was most deeply moved when 
the Unknown Man spoke. As was often his cus- 
tom, he rose just before the close of the meeting, 
and said: 

“For the Word of God is quick and power- 
247 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


ful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, pierc- 
ing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit, 
and of the joints and marrow, and is a discerner 
of the thoughts and intents of the heart. Neither 
is there any creature that is not manifest in his 
sight; but all things are naked and open to the 
eyes of him with whom we have to do. . . . 

Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; 
that put darkness for light, and light for dark- 
ness; that put hitter for sweet, and sweet for 
bitter. Woe unto them that are wise in their own 
eyes, and prudent in their own sight. ... I call 
heaven and earth to record this day against you, 
that I have set before you life and death, blessing 
and cursing ; therefore choose life, that both thou 
and thy seed may live. . . . Behold, I stand 

at the door and knock ; if any man hear my voice 
and open the door, I will come in to him, and will 
sup with him, and he with me.” 

As these words fell from the lips of the strange 
speaker, a deathlike stillness prevailed. Whether 
intentional or not, he held his eyes steadily on 
the eyes of Miss Josephine while he spoke. She 
was most deeply affected. Her face alternately 
flushed and paled. She could not remove her 
248 


THE OAK HALL MEETING. 


gaze from the speaker. She visibly moved in her 
seat. She dropped her fan, then her handker- 
chief. At last she buried her face in her hands, 
and found relief in a flood of tears. On the way 
home not a word passed between her and her 
mother. She went straight to her room and 
locked the door. She declined all refreshments. 
She had entered upon a great battle with intel- 
lectual pride and excessive worldly-mindedness on 
one side, and divine light and conscience and duty 
on the other. She would never leave her room 
until the issue was settled. She never closed her 
eyes in sleep during the night. The battle raged 
until after the midnight hour, and on toward the 
morning. Her mother could not sleep. Every 
little while she would slip quietly along the hall 
to the room door, only to hear subdued sobs and 
the voice of quiet prayer. The contest intensified. 
It was victory or death. Physical energy was fail- 
ing. The world was receding. She thought she 
must be dying. She fell helplessly on the bed, 
crying: “My strength is gone; I can hold out no 
longer; I yield, I yield. O, Man of Nazareth, 
have your way!” She lay quiet and calm for a 
minute or two. Just as the first rays of the morn- 
249 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


ing sun were tipping the church-spires with golden 
hues, and stealing silently through the open win- 
dow, her mother, passing through the hall, heard 
a sweet, tender voice, in low tones, softly singing: 

“ I ’ll go where you want me to go, dear Lord, 

O’er mountain, or plain, or sea; 

I ’ll say what you want me to say, dear Lord ; 

I ’ll be what you want me to be.” 

As, after a night of storm at sea, when the 
winds sweep over the face of the deep like fiery 
steeds, and the waves meet and leap upright like 
angry animals in deadly strife; when the vessel 
is tossed hither and thither like a child’s toy- 
boat; when the clouds are so dark and heavy 
that the ship touches the horizon at every 
plunge, — the gray dawn of the new day appears; 
the unbridled steeds of the storm fly away in re- 
treat; the angry waves are hushed into quiet- 
ness ; a hazy cloud stretches like a curtain athwart 
the distant eastern sky; red streaks of light be- 
gin to pierce the cloud, sure token of the near 
approach of the king of day ; a few minutes more, 
and the upper rim of a massive ball of fire, bril- 
liant in beauty and clothed in kingly splendor, 
gracefully, like a thing of life, lifts itself up 
from the depths of the sea, as it were, tinging 
250 


THE OAK HALL MEETING. 


the hilltops with golden crowns and spreading 
waves of light o’er field and plain, while the 
swelling sea, far as mortal eye can scan, reflects 
its dazzling colors, — and the sun is up, and peace- 
ful calm prevails o’er sea and land. So was the 
calm, and quiet, and peace that settled in the 
breast of Josephine, when she emerged from the 
storm of that night, to appear with the family 
at the breakfast-table. Her face had a tired look, 
but it was wreathed in smiles of more than usual 
beauty. She simply said, “Good-morning to all,” 
and after a moment added: “It’s done, mother. 
Henceforth I will be your assistant in your divine 
work, if you think me qualified for such service.” 
Her mother and father expressed their great de- 
light at her decision, not knowing fully the strug- 
gle through which she had passed. 

In the ecstasy of her new experience, 
Jospehine’s first impulse was to write Dr. Good- 
fellow; but, upon second thought, it occurred to 
her that her motive might be misunderstood and 
her sincerity compromised. So she determined 
to say nothing to him about the change ; he would 
doubtless soon discover it for himself, and intro- 
duce the subject. 


251 


XXX. 


JOSIAH WORTHINGTON’S HAY-RIGGING. 

In the afternoon of this day a country wagon, 
with a hay-rigging on it, was driven to the front 
of the McCord residence, and the horses were 
tied to the hitching-post. The driver, with a small 
basket in hand, walked to the front door and 
knocked. He might have touched the electric 
button, but perhaps did not know its use. The 
servant conducted him to the parlor, upon his 
statement that he would “like to see the woman 
of the house.” When Mrs. McCord entered, she 
at once recognized him as the farmer who often 
attended the Oak Hall meetings. “My name,” 
he said “is Josiah Worthington, from Koonsocket 
Holler. I was fetchin’ in a load of hay this 
mornin’, and my old woman she tuck a notion 
she would like you to have a taste of pure butter 
and fresh eggs, seem’ thar ’s so much mixm’ 
up of milk and things in town butter, and so 
much onsartanty about incubatin’ and cold 
storagin’ of eggs; so she would have me fetch 
along some of the real simon-pure article. I 
252 


/ 


JOSIAH WORTHINGTON’S VISIT. 


know this butter air pure, for I tuck the milk 
that made it from our mooly cow all myself, 
and Mary Elizabeth she churned it with her own 
hands. And I ’ll swear by the Good Book that 
these eggs air fresh, for I gathered them myself, 
before the hens that laid them were done 
a-cacklin’. Yes, the Worthingtons have always 
been great on fresh eggs and pure butter.” 

“It was certainly very kind in you and your 
wife, Mr. Worthington, to remember us in this 
way. I am sure we will enjoy the eggs and but- 
ter ; and I will be glad to pay you more than the 
market price for them,” said Mrs. McCord as she 
received the basket. 

“Wall, I reckon you won’t pay me nothin’. 
The Good Book says, Give, and it shall be given 
to you ag’in, good measure, pressed down and 
runnin’ over. That ’s pay enough for me. I 
never lost nothin’ yet by bein’ open-handed,” said 
the farmer. 

“Well, you are certainly very kind,” added 
Mrs. McCord. 

Josiah was somewhat of a neighborhood gos- 
sip. He had constituted himself a kind of general- 
intelligence office for the natives of the Koon- 
253 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


socket region. He would have made a first-class 
newspaper reporter if he had been taken in hand 
early in life. It was his delight to have a dozen 
boys and men listen to him retail the latest gossip 
about affairs in city and country. The real ob- 
ject of his visit to Mrs. McCord was to lay in 
a new supply of intelligence for use among his 
neighbors. 

“I hearn tell that your husband is puttin’ up 
a powerful big lot of buildin’s for the the use 
of the poor people in the ‘Wicked Ward.’ I 
allers know’d he was a mighty liberal man. About 
how much cash does he expect to lay out in the 
ondertakin’, Mrs. McCord?” 

“My husband, with some others, are planning 
some very good things for the poor people of 
that ward.” 

“Wall, Mrs. McCord, you have been a-doin’ 
a power of good in the Oak Hall meetin’s.” And 
then Josiah waxed eloquent. “I kalkerlate that 
the spring which you have opened in that desert- 
place will flow on an’ on, an’ still on an’ on, until 
it can’t run any furder. And, for your encourage- 
ment, I will say that I myself have been power- 
fully stirred up. And when you get a Worthing- 
254 


JO SI AII WORTHINGTON’S VISIT. 


ton started on the right road, you ’ve did a big 
thing, for they are all as tough as hick-ry hark, 
and as slippery as a pealed pole, and as stubborn 
as a mooly cow. I We been a-thinkin’ of jinin’ 
your Church, if you ’d take me in. I hearn say 
that since you built the new house you tuck in 
all kinds. It ’s only nine miles from Koonsocket 
Holler to the city, and me and Mary Elizabeth 
could cum’ to church in the mornin’s arter milk- 
ing the cows, and take dinner with some of the 
members, and get hum before milkin’ time in the 
evenin’. What do you think about it, Mrs. Mc- 
Cord?” 

a That is a matter that belongs entirely to 
the pastor and his official advisers. You had bet- 
ter see him,” suggested Mrs. McCord. 

“Wall, I think I’ll drive on toward hum be- 
fore it gets dark, as I want to get by the ha’nted 
place in the Holler before the sun goes down. 
You know’d, I suppose, that thar ’s a black man 
often seed thar without a head, and when he gets 
arter a feller he just runs him to death. He 
does a powerful sight of good, howsumever; for 
the farmers that travel by that road are always 
hum before dark, and sober, too. I ’ll take the 
255 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


basket, if you please, Mrs. McCord. Let me 
know how you liked the butter and eggs. I ’ll 
say good-bye till I see you ag’in.” 

As Josiah rose to depart, he caught a glimpse 
of the fine painting of John the Baptist, and pro- 
ceeded to remark, by way of inquiry: “I reckon 
that ’s a picter of some of your kin-folks on the 
men’s side? Might be your grandfather? Must 
have kum west in an airly day when clothes 
was scearce and dear ? Looks as if he ’d been 
a-huntin’ ’coons and ’possums, and left the game 
in the woods.” 

“That is a painting of John the Baptist,” ob- 
served Mrs. McCord, as she walked toward the 
door. 

“John the Baptist!” exclaimed Josiah. “Wall, 
I allers tho’t them thar Baptist naibors of mine 
was a sing’lar kind of people, and I ’m rail glad 
to see the old kurmudgon out of which they 
evolverated.” 

As he advanced toward the open door, he 
passed that other great work of art, Jacob’s vision 
of the angels ascending and descending the ladder, 
when he wisely observed: 

“I wonder if them fellers is a-tryin’ to build 
256 


JOSIAH WORTHINGTON’S VISIT . 


a haystack with that ladder? Looks as if they 
was a-gittin’ up pretty high in the world. Must 
be mighty hot weather whar they ’re a-harvestin’, 
for they seem to have on powerful thin like har- 
ness. W ould n’t be surprised if they ’d get wet 
before night, for it looks kind er cloudy over 
thair heads.” 

Mrs. McCord smiled at the old farmer’s inno- 
cent criticisms, and politely bade him good-bye. 

Unfortunately, Josiah was late starting home. 
Consequently, darkness had appeared by the time 
he reached the supposed haunted place on the 
road. Many extravagant stories were abroad con- 
cerning the headless man; but no one could tes- 
tify to having seen him, though many had seen 
what they imagined to be this “bogy-man.” 
Josiah, of course, was on the lookout as he ap- 
proached the dreaded place. A forest of heavy 
growth was on one side of the road, and an open 
field on the other, with a fence running close 
to the road. The night was ominously still; not 
a leaf was stirring. The voice of a whip-poor- 
will could be heard in the distance ; the occasional 
hooting of a pair of night-owls relieved the 
monotony, but added to the awesomeness of the 
17 257 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


place. The noise of the wagon and the trotting 
of the horses could be distinctly heard a mile 
away. An occasional cloud concealed the twink- 
ling stars. The full moon had completed a quar- 
ter of her circuit, casting irregular shadows of 
the tall trees across the road and over into the 
field. The trunk of a burned tree, twelve feet 
high, stood just inside the fence, projecting six 
feet above the fence. By a very slight stretch 
of the imagination it resembled the upper half 
of the body of a black man, minus the head, stand- 
ing on the fence, when seen in the dark. When 
Josiah caught a glimpse of this object, his super- 
stitious fears already wrought up to a high pitch, 
he at once concluded it was the headless man. 
He was already driving at a fast speed and 
whistling as if going by a graveyard; but he 
brought his whip to the backs of his horses with 
such suddenness and power that they sprang into 
a gallop. As he glanced to the upper side of the 
road, the shadows of the trees were flying by 
like a troop of black phantoms dancing to the 
music of the rattling wagon. The rapid speed 
of the horses, with the frequent hiding of the 
moon by passing clouds, made the shadows come 
258 


JOSIAH WORTHINGTON’S VISIT. 


and go with bewildering quickness. One was 
scarcely gone until another took its place. So 
every time he looked aside he saw what seemed to 
him to be that big, black, headless man keeping 
pace with him. The faster he drove, the faster it 
went. Though the shadows were constantly re- 
treating, they were just as constantly coming, and 
in his fright he did not know which way they 
were going. The stretch of road by the forest 
was only a half mile long ; so he was soon beyond 
the shadows, and the ghost disappeared. When 
he reached home, out of breath and pale, his wife 
said to him: 

“Why, Josiah ! What ’s the matter with you? 
You look skeert!” 

“I am skeert, powerful skeert.” 

“Why, what in the world has happened? Did 
the horses run away with you?” as she wiped the 
perspiration from his face. 

“No, dang it all, they did n’t run fast enough.” 
Then in a solemn tone he added, “Mary Elizabeth, 
I ’ve seen the devil !” 

This announcement brought from his wife a 
hysterical scream, and she ran for the camphor- 
bottle and applied it to Josiah. 

259 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 

“Yes,” continued the alarmed man, “that in- 
firnal black nigger without a head chased me clear 
through the ha’nted road, and nearly had his 
hands on me several times. If the whipple-tree 
had broke or the harness gi’n way, you would 
have been a widder, Mary Elizabeth Worthington, 
by this time. 1 ’ve driv’ my last lode of hay to 
Chattahooche. I ’ll find another market if I 
do n’t get as much for it. Mary Elizabeth, I ’ve 
decided to jine the Church. I ’ve been puttin’ 
it off too long. I told Mrs. McCord that I thought 
I would jine her Church, but I ’ve changed my 
mind. It ’s too far to the city. Besides, I do n’t 
want to go to meetin’ over a road where the devil 
has a toll-gate and scares a feller nearly to death 
if he is a little late cornin’ home.” 

This episode was the end of Josiah’s attend- 
ance at the Oak Hall meetings. 


260 


XXXI. 

INTERVIEW BETWEEN BUD AND JENNIE. 

For the last year Dr. Goodfellow had devoted 
considerable attention to the instruction of Bud. 
Soon after he entered the service of Mr. McCord, 
he began to attend the Sunday-school of the 
“Church of the Xew Humanity.” His develop- 
ment in religious knowledge was as marked 
as in other respects, and it was not long until 
he was received into the fellowship of the Church. 
Dr. Goodfellow saw in him the elements of a 
useful man in evangelistic work, and directed his 
reading and study accordingly, granting him the 
free use of his library. For the last year he 
had heard his recitations in Greek and Hebrew, 
and in the study of the English Bible. At a recent 
meeting at Oak Hall, the announcement that Bud, 
the former newsboy, would speak, crowded the 
place to overflowing. Mr. McCord, after con- 
sultation with his pastor, decided to furnish the 
means to support him a year or two in a Bible- 
school, in order to his preparation for work in 
261 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


connection with the new movement in the 
“Wicked Ward” of Chattahooche. Bud was glad 
and grateful for the opportunity, for as he be- 
gan to unfold into young manhood he found his 
heart inclining to that kind of work, and to that 
field. 

Mrs. Sidney Patterson’s aversion to anything 
like intimacy between Bud and Jennie became 
more pronounced as they grew in years. She suc- 
ceeded in prevailing upon her husband to con- 
sent to sending Jennie away to school, hoping 
that distance and separation would work forget- 
fulness of youthful fancies. Without any thought 
of concealment, Bud and Jennie met frequently 
at Sunday-school and church, and at Mr. McCord’s 
house. At their last meeting Bud said: 

“And you are going away off to school, I 
understand, Jennie. Well, I am glad you are to 
have an education; but it will be mighty lone- 
some when you are gone. It kind of makes me 
feel like doing better and being somebody every 
time I see you and hear you talk. You always 
encourage me so much, Jennie.” 

“Well, I feel sorry, too, Bud; but I’ll be 
home at vacation, and you can see me then. And 
262 


AN INTERVIEW. 


I ’ll write you and let you know how I ’m getting 
along/’ said Jennie. 

“I do n’t think your mamma will like that 
very well, for she do n’t seem pleased to have me 
around as you do,” answered Bud. 

“You must not mind about mamma. She will 
be all right when she sees what a nice, good man 
you are going to be. Papa likes you, and believes 
in you. He says you will be one of the big men 
of the city some day; and papa knows,” rejoined 
Jennie. 

“You make me feel so queer, Jennie, when 
you talk that way. Every time I meet you it 
seems as if I had grown an inch taller. You are 
just a precious little jewel,” declared Bud. “Did 
you know I was going to school, too? Yes, Mr. 
McCord told me last night that he would pay 
my expenses for two years if I would attend a 
Bible-school, and study and prepare for an 
evangelist among the poor, and I am to start in 
a week.” 

Jennie clapped her hands and cried, “O, 
goody, goody ! won’t that be nice ! And when we 
come home from school, Bud, may be that house 
will be ready that we are going to live in.” 

263 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


“Now, Jennie, you are joking again. You 
know I am poor and have no money to buy a 
house with. When you graduate and return 
home, some big rich man will want you to live 
in his fine house,” suggested Bud, somewhat 
sadly. 

“Do n’t you trouble yourself about that, Bud. 
When we are ready the house will be ready. Papa 
told me something the other day,” said Jennie, 
with a knowing air, as her eyes fell to the ground. 

By this time they had reached the corner 
nearest Jennie’s home, and Bud said: “I suppose 
I ’ll not see you again, Jennie; so I ’ll say good- 
bye. Do n’t you forget to write me.” And he 
took both her hands into his, and stood looking 
straight into her beautiful face, while a silent tear 
pushed itself out from the corner of his eye. 
Jennie also looked into his face. Neither spoke 
for a moment, when Bud, with downcast eyes, 
asked, “Shall I, Jennie?” 

She modestly answered, “If you like.” 

Jennie ran to the gate and into the house, 
and stood at the parlor-window, while she watched 
Bud as he walked briskly homeward. She won- 
dered to herself why she should feel such interest 
264 


AN INTERVIEW. 


in that unknown newsboy, so far beneath her 
social rank? Why should she be anxious about 
his future? Was her destiny in some way being 
woven into his? Did the future hold anything 
in common for them? Perhaps her mother was 
right in her opposition to their intimacy, of which 
she had become aware. 

As Bud disappeared from her sight, mingling 
with the people on the crowded street, similar 
thoughts flitted through his mind. But how could 
he expect that Jennie’s family and friends should 
ever approve anything like a union of their lives ? 
he inquired of himself. The social distance be- 
tween them seemed too great to be bridged. He 
could and would prove himself worthy of Jennie 
in character and attainments; but he was poor, 
and she was rich. 

They are both in the hands of a Power that 
will order all things for their good, if they hold 
themselves in right relation to him. So we shall 
see what we shall see. 

A few days later, and Jennie was off to school. 
After she had departed, her mother thought to 
herself : 

“I hope, now, there will be an end of this 
265 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


childish talk of Jennie about living with Bud. 
The idea that my dear girl should ever marry a 
man who has been a newsboy, and who is so poor 
that he must accept the charity of others to se- 
cure an education! No, no; there is something 
better for my Jennie. No matter what her father 
says, I ’m her mother, and I ’ll see that they 
do n’t meet again. I owe it to my only daughter 
to help her secure a husband, when the time 
comes, who is her equal in social life and wealth. 
She will soon forget all about this newsboy when 
she settles down to her work in school.” 


266 


XXXII. 


BUD AND JENNIE AT SCHOOL. 

In a week, both Jennie and Bud were nicely 
established in their respective schools, two hun- 
dred miles apart. The first few days were spent 
in preliminary examinations and in deciding upon 
their course of study. Everything was so novel 
and interesting that their minds were thoroughly 
occupied. They had no time to think of home or 
of each other. Finally, they found stealing upon 
them the first mild attack of that peculiar sense 
of loneliness generally diagnosed as “homesick- 
ness.” Jennie remembered her promise to write 
to Bud, and he was anxiously watching the arrival 
of every mail. Jennie was embarrassed by a let- 
ter she had received from her mother, which con- 
tained, among other things, the following advice: 

“Dear Daughter Jennie, — You are by this 
time, doubtless, fairly under way in your studies 
and settled in your new home. I hope you are 
happy, and that you will advance rapidly. Noth- 
ing will please your mother so much as to have 
her darling graduate with honor, and return home 
267 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


a finely-educated and matured young lady. Noth- 
ing that love and money can secure will be spared 
to help you. 

“Now, Jennie darling, mother must advise you 
a little in a matter of importance. I know how 
kindly you feel toward Bud. This is natural, in 
view of his finding you and bringing you home 
after you were lost in the great fire. W e all have 
an interest in the poor boy, and are pleased to see 
how he has improved since he has been with Mr. 
McCord. And we are glad he is to be educated 
for an evangelist to the poor, among whom he was 
born and reared. But, dear, you must not get 
yourself mixed up with his life and work. He 
belongs to a different class from you. He is poor. 
He is a charity student at school. You are rich, 
and belong to the highest social rank. You have 
nothing in common with the poor boy. All our 
ambitions and plans point in a different direction 
for you. You will soon be a young lady. Hold 
your head high. Seek your friends and associ- 
ations among the people where you belong. Still 
think kindly of the poor newsboy, but leave him 
out of all vour desires and plans for the future. 
Do n’t get your pure young heart involved in any 
way. Give your undivided attention to your stud- 
ies. After graduation, all possible questions of 
the future can be settled. Lovingly, 

“Mother.” 


268 


BUD AND JENNIE AT SCHOOL. 


This letter was a continuation of the policy of 
Mrs. Patterson to break off the intimacy between 
Bud and Jennie, and foreclose the possibility of 
any future coming together of their young lives. 
She had written it without the knowledge of her 
husband. He was not disturbed, as she was, con- 
cerning future possibilities. She had determined 
to direct Jennie’s life according to her own views 
and ambitions in social matters, without his con- 
currence or knowledge. 

Jennie’s sense of gratitude obscured her vision 
of Bud’s humble origin and poverty. She had not 
yet reached the age where her pride was inflated 
with a feeling of social superiority. Indeed, her 
nature was not of that stamp. Open-hearted and 
entirely innocent of the conventional distinctions 
of life, she needed discipline and twisting before 
she could believe and feel as did her aristocratic 
mother. Indeed, she had heard Mrs. McCord and 
Dr. Goodfellow speak so often about the “poor 
being God’s people,” that she had come to regard 
it as an honor to be connected with them. Bud 
was, therefore, the more interesting to her be- 
cause he was “poor.” And when her mother in 
her letter said, “We all have an interest in the 
269 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


poor boy,” the effect was entirely different from 
what Mrs. Patterson intended. But the letter 
annoyed Jennie. It was a cloud over her young 
life just at a time when she was filled with holiest 
inspirations and brightest hopes. She did not 
want to go contrary to her mother’s wishes, but 
such haughty distinctions were repugnant to her 
sympathetic nature, aside from the personal in- 
terest she felt in Bud. Unknown to her mother, 
Mrs. McCord had become a model in character 
and work to the young girl. What should she do ? 
She had promised Bud to write before she had 
received her mother’s letter. Bud should know 
all, and her father should know all. So the next 
mail carried this epistle: 

“Dear George, — I reached the school in due 
season, after leaving home. I was most kindly re- 
ceived, and assigned my place in the classes. I 
like my teachers very much, and also my school- 
mates. I am getting along very well in my stud- 
ies. I have been so busy that I have scarcely 
had time to fulfill my promise to write you. And 
now, as I begin this letter, I am afraid you will 
think I am violating the rules of propriety in 
writing you first. Ought not you to have written 
me first ? I did not think of this when I promised. 

270 


BUD AND JENNIE AT SCHOOL. 


You will forgive me, will you not, if I have been 
guilty of indiscretion? My feeling toward you 
seems like that of a sister for a brother. I am 
sure no sister could be more interested in a brother 
than I am in you. 

“How, George, I will be entirely frank with 
you and tell you all. My mother, as you kow, is 
not pleased with what she calls the “intimacy” be- 
tween us. I hardly know what she means. But I 
think she is afraid that we might fall in love with 
each other, and she wants to prevent that. I know 
my papa does n’t feel that way. I do not want to 
disappoint my mother, or do anything against her 
desire. But, George, I do not know why, but 
somehow I feel that our lives are to run together, 
and that we are to do a great work for Him. I 
am sorry that mother thinks as she does. What 
shall I do? Maybe you can help me. I will ask 
the dear Savior, to whom we consecrated our lives 
when we united with the Church, to guide me and 
save me from doing anything wrong. I will al- 
ways be happy to hear from you. 

“Jennie.” 

Though in her familiar intercourse with Bud 
she always addressed him by the nickname that 
the newsboys gave him, yet in her letter she 
thought this was scarcely dignified enough, and 
271 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


so she wrote “George.” When Bud received this 
letter he was both pleased and worried — pleased 
to hear from Jennie, and to know that her interest 
in him had not changed ; worried at the attitude 
of her mother, with her persistent hostility toward 
him. He read the letter several times, and, after 
praying for light, wrote this reply: 

“Dear Jennie, — I was delighted to receive 
your letter. I had waited patiently for weeks, and 
was wondering if you had forgotten your promise. 
My little friend, do not think for a moment that 
you have transcended any rule of propriety in 
writing me ‘first.’ The social distance between us 
would forbid my writing you ‘first.’ 

“I can understand why your mother feels as 
she does. I am only a poor boy, while you are 
the daughter of rich parents. It is natural that 
your mother should desire for you friends and 
associations of the higher social walks. But we 
are young yet, Jennie. A few years may work 
surprising changes. I shall be greatly disap- 
pointed if I do not prove myself worthy of you, if 
a kind Providence should point in that direction. 
You have always been a ‘good angel’ to me. Your 
trusting look has always been an inspiration. 
Your good words of encouragement have always 
evoked the best elements of my nature. Your 
puritv and innocence of character have always 
272 


BUD AND JENNIE AT SCHOOL . 


banished unworthy thoughts. Association with 
you, even for only a few moments, has always 
made me feel more like being a good man. If 
an unkind fate should prevent the consummation 
of our youthful desires and ambitions, I shall al- 
ways be a better man, and do better service for 
the world, because of my acquaintance with you, 
my little jewel. 

“So let us go on and complete our education 
for our life work. Be assured that I shall never 
do anything of which your mother will be 
ashamed. Some time she may come to see that 
there are some things more valuable than riches 
or high social position. Some day she may be as 
proud of me as I now am, and always have been, 
of you. We can afford to bide our time. 

“Your letters will always be to me like re- 
freshing water in a hot desert. I have but few 
friends besides my mother and you. So favor me 
all you can. 

“I am happy in my studies, and will make the 
best possible use of my time while here. With 
assurances of never-failing esteem and interest 
for my ‘good angel/ I am, 

“Yours for all that is good and true, 

“George.” 

This correspondence started Bud and Jennie 
in their school life with a satisfactory understand- 
18 273 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


ing. Occasional letters passed between them as 
the school years fled. Bud developed unusual 
ability as a public speaker, and was in frequent de- 
mand. Jennie’s beauty of person solidified and 
matured, while her mental development was far 
above the average. 


274 


XXXIII. 

DR. GOODFELLOW AND MISS JOSEPHINE McCORD. 

Two weeks had passed since the last visit of 
Dr. Goodfellow to the McCord residence. It was 
Monday evening. He had heard during the day 
that Miss Josephine had taken part in the Oak 
Hall meeting by singing a solo. She had a sweet 
voice, which had been highly cultivated, and her 
singing was a great delight to the people, the more 
so as they understood she was the daughter of the 
lady who was now recognized as a mother to them 
all. Dr. Goodfellow had not heard of the change 
that had taken place in Josephine’s mind and life. 
But he could see, by her manner and countenance, 
that something had occurred. When they met 
this evening he expressed his pleasure at seeing 
her again. He was especially gratified to learn 
that she had decided to co-operate with her mother 
in her work. He ventured to inquire how it had 
come about. He had understood that she was 
not in sympathy with her mother’s plans; that 
275 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


indeed her views on some vital religious points 
were quite unsettled, which had been to him a 
cause of no little pain. “Could it be possible,” he 
inquired, “that you have changed your sentiments, 
and therefore the current of your life, Miss Jo- 
sephine ?” 

“Have you not heard ?” inquired Miss McCord. 

“Nothing whatever,” answered the pastor. 

Miss Josephine then related her experience, 
which was most gratifying to Dr. G-oodfellow. 
The whole atmosphere of the room seemed 
changed to him. He saw and felt that in Church 
matters they were now in perfect accord. He 
wondered if it would be wise to raise other ques- 
tions. He could see no reason why he might not 
advance further. From his standpoint all diffi- 
culties were out of his way. He would give a 
good deal to knoAv all difficulties were out of her 
way. He knew no means of ascertaining but to 
inquire. But how to get at it, was the question. 
Finally he remarked, “That was an interesting 
conversation we had about Napoleon’s matri- 
monial affairs, and about Victoria proposing mar- 
riage to Prince Albert.” 

“Very interesting, indeed,” responded Miss 
276 


DR. GOODFELLOW AND JOSEPHINE. 

J osephine. “I was sorry it was ended so abruptly 
by my unwise suggestion that you might abandon 
your calling as a minister, and engage exclusively 
in literary and scientific pursuits. I owe you an 
apology for my impertinence, and beg your par- 
don for my thoughtlessness. If I had waited a 
little while, I never could have made such a re- 
mark.” 

The doctor’s face brightened perceptibly, and 
he began to feel much more at ease. Then he 
proceeded in a pleasant way: “I am not a Cath- 
olic priest, Miss Josephine, but it is a pleasure to 
absolve you. I suppose persons in our peculiar 
state of mind are likely to think many things that 
they do not express. I sometimes wish I had a 
private telephone to communicate with you; I 
might then have courage to say what I would like 
to have you know. You remember I suggested 
that the royal ladies had a privilege accorded them 
which must be a relief to modest men.” 

“Pardon me, Doctor, but I hardly think I un- 
derstand just what you mean?” queried Miss Jo- 
sephine. 

“Well,” said the pastor, as he changed po- 
sition in his chair, and relieved the irritation in 
277 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


his throat, “this is about what I would like to say: 
I am a single man of marriageable age, and it is 
about time for me to be seeking a suitable com- 
panion in my life work.” 

Miss McCord looked sideways a little, and 
with apparent unconcern remarked: “Yes, I think 
it very proper you should have a companion in 
your work ; it would no doubt add to your already 
large influence for good. I am sure you would 
furnish a happy home for her.” 

Dr. Gloodfellow girded himself for a heroic 
effort, and made another advanced movement: 
“Now, Miss Josephine, I might as well be honest 
with you, and acknowledge that Cupid’s arrow 
hath pierced my heart, and that it lies wounded 
and fluttering at your feet. It is within your 
power to heal the wound and make me one of the 
happiest men on earth. And I further say that I 
gladly tender you my hand with my heart, with 
the hope that you will accept both, and unite 
your destiny with mine ;” and he drew a deep in- 
spiration, and thought to himself, “Now it ’s done, 
thank my stars !” 

Miss Josephine’s face flushed, and she dropped 
her head until her chin almost touched her bosom, 
278 


DR. GOODFELLOW AND JOSEPHINE. 


which was heaving with emotion. Then, after 
a moment’s pause, with some tremor in her voice, 
she replied: 

“You quite surprise me, Doctor. While I as 
frankly admit that Cupid has been doing a similar 
work in my heart, and while I feel greatly hon- 
ored by this expression of your appreciation and 
love, yet in a matter of such vital importance I 
think I ought to have a little more time for con- 
sideration. Perhaps when you call again I can 
give you an answer. Y ou will grant it, won’ t you ?’ ’ 

“I will grant anything you desire, my love — 
may I not say it now? — but I hope you will 
abbreviate the time as much as possible. It must 
be evident to you that I am in a state of more 
than ordinary agitation just now, and that the 
suspense will be painful,” admitted the pastor, 
with an expression of much anxiety on his face. 

When the doctor was about to take his leave 
that evening he very delicately suggested that 
there was a sign and seal of love, recognized the 
world over, divine in its origin, though some- 
times prostituted to the uses of betrayal and other 
wicked ends, a recognition of which seemed to 
him proper at this stage of their acquaintance; 

279 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


and if Miss Josephine would accede to the propo- 
sition, it would be to him an unspeakable delight 
to bestow this sign upon her, and thus far seal 
their love. She did not object. 

The further details of this interesting romance 
are left entirely to the parties most concerned. 
Both had passed the period of youthful adoles- 
cence and the immaturity of young manhood and 
womanhood, and were therefore entirely compe- 
tent to adjust matters connubial. 

Six months have passed. The Church has ad- 
vanced Dr. Goodfellow’s salary two thousand dol- 
lars a year, and granted him a four months’ va- 
cation for a trip abroad. Cards had been sent 
out that Dr. and Mrs. Goodfellow would be “at 
home for all friends on and after August first.” 
The happy couple had secured passage on one 
of the finest liners of the Atlantic, and left Hew 
York on the tenth of April for an extensive tour 
through England and the Continent. A small 
company of friends stood on the dock, and 
watched the splendid steamer as she slowly moved 
down the bay toward Sandy Hook, and on out 
over the face of the mighty deep toward the Old 
World, carrying at least two happy souls. 

280 


XXXIV. 

BUD’S MASTERLY ADDRESS. 

Bud has completed his two years in the Bible 
Institute, and has spent one year in the special 
study of social, economic, and industrial science. 
He is now at home on a short vacation, before 
going abroad to investigate the methods of help- 
ing the poor in the large cities of the Old World. 
He was invited to speak in the “Church of the Hew 
Humanity.” The announcement of this fact in 
the daily press, together with a brief sketch of 
the remarkable career of the young man, and his 
splendid ability as a public speaker, drew a con- 
gregation that packed the house from chancel to 
door. Many of them were poor people from the 
“Wicked Ward.” Two hundred newsboys occu- 
pied the front seats. All the members of the 
Socialist Club were present. When Bud entered 
the door and first beheld the great congregation 
his face slightly paled and his heart fluttered a 
little. As he slowly walked down the aisle, a 
281 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


middle-aged lady, in plain but neat attire, was 
leaning on his arm. There was a general buzz 
and stir among the anxiously- waiting people. All 
eyes were soon fixed upon him, not the least inter- 
ested of which was a young lady who sat by the 
side of Mrs. Sidney Patterson, slightly blushing 
and fanning herself with more than usual ani- 
mation. Mr. Beverly McCord arose as they ap- 
proached the end of his pew and most courteously 
conducted Bud’s mother to a seat by the side of 
Mrs. McCord. As Bud passed the newsboys, 
they could not repress their admiration, which 
they expressed in an undertone, in such ejacula- 
tions as — 

“He ’s a daisy ! Pass ’im up !” 

“Look at dem gleamers ! He ’s no spring 
chick.” 

“Gee, couldn’t he make de evenin’ Rip-Rap 
flop ’er wings, and swipe de spondulics !” 

“Say, Skinny, is he one of dem gospilers dat 
shoots off his mouf at de Oak Hall?” 

“Haw, he’s no gospiler; he’s just er man. 
He would n’t hurt nobody nor nuffin’.” 

“I ’ll bet he ’ll make er buzz when dat organ- 
grinder starts de macheen up dare. Youse kids 
282 


BUD’S MASTERLY ADDRESS. 


better look out for youse pates; kase why, de 
bullets ’ll be a-flyin’ tru de air purty soon.” 

When he mounted the platform and an- 
nounced his theme, he looked into the faces of 
the largest and most interested congregation that 
had ever crowded that wealthy church. The 
audience, also, gazed into a face the like of which 
they had never seen in that pulpit before, not 
excepting even their own pastor. George Bud- 
dington was now nearing his majority in years. 
He was above medium size and remarkably well 
developed. His countenance was open and frank, 
while his great brown eyes scanned the expectant 
multitude before him with masterful repose. He 
caught one eye that glistened like the morning 
star, and the breath of a great inspiration touched 
him as he read its loving, eloquent message. His 
voice was deep-toned, but sonorous and sym- 
pathetic, completely filling the vast auditorium. 
It had been thoroughly trained in the art of ex- 
pression, but was singularly free from all affecta- 
tion and tricks of speech. His action corre- 
sponded with his voice, and fitted perfectly the 
brilliant thoughts he enunciated, clothed as they 
were in beautiful and forceful language. True 
283 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


art is not mechanical, but consists in saying the 
right thing in the best way. His text was, “For 
ye know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that 
though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became 
poor, that ye through his poverty might be made 
rich.” His theme was the “Humiliation of Christ 
in Order to the Enrichment of the World.” It 
would be impossible to follow the discourse in 
this record. Suffice it to say that for nearly an 
hour he held the vast audience spellbound. At 
times, during his significant pauses, as he cast 
his penetrating eyes over the audience, the deep 
breathing of the people could be distinctly heard. 
At other times nearly three thousand persons were 
swayed, as by a hurricane, following one of his 
masterly flights, when a great wave of sympathy 
swept over them, leaving nearly everybody to the 
welcome relief of tears — newsboys, socialists, and 
all. Thus he held, and stirred, and molded, and 
thrilled his hearers, while he poured the hot truth 
of God into their hearts. In his final appeal to 
the people to consecrate their lives and their 
money to the uplifting of the poor, and thus 'prove 
their discipleship to the Christ, his eloquence was 
unsurpassed, exciting alike the wonder and ad- 
284 


BUD’S MASTERLY ADDRESS. 


miration of all. When he sat down the great 
audience did the unusual thing of breaking out 
into applause by clapping their hands. The 
organist and the choir struck up the familiar 
hymn, “Rescue the Perishing,” while the people 
wept and sang, and sang and wept. Bud passed 
quickly down the aisle to where his dear old 
mother was sitting, and leaning over in front of 
Mr. McCord, kissed her on the forehead, while 
she shook with uncontrollable emotion. Imme- 
diately everybody who saw this filial act was cry- 
ing and laughing. As he returned to the chancel 
he noticed a sweet, familiar face in Mr. Patter- 
son’s pew, as pretty a flower as ever blushed with 
love and joy, all wreathed in smiles, while the dew- 
drops sparkled in her lustrous eyes. He bowed 
a graceful recognition, and returned the smile. 
She said, “ Mother , what do you think of the charity 
student now?” Mrs. Patterson answered not a 
word, but buried her face in her handkerchief. 
Bud had conquered. 

After hundreds had shaken the hands of the 
young man, and congratulated him on the won- 
derful effort of the morning, the great audience 
slowly dispersed, many looking back, as they ap- 
285 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


proached the doors, to catch a final glimpse of 
the smiling face of the young prophet. The ad- 
dress was published in full in several of the 
Monday morning papers, with unstinted praise 
of the young evangelist. George Buddington, 
formerly Bud, the newsboy, was the most gen- 
erally-discussed person in the city for the next 
few days. One editor devoted his leading edi- 
torial to an appreciative review of the work of 
Mrs. McCord, presenting Bud as an illustration. 

In two weeks Bud was off on a tour of the 
great cities of England and the Continent, in 
quest of such information as would qualify him 
for his life work. The next we hear from him is 
in the following letter to Jennie: 

“London, . 

“Dear Jennie, — After a most delightful va- 
cation in Chattahooche, I took passage at New 
York for Liverpool on the fine steamer City of 
Rome , of the Anchor Line. In the main we had 
a charming trip across the Atlantic. We were 
favored with the usual spectacle of whales, ice- 
bergs, and other curiosities of the great sea, not 
excepting inability, part of the time, to be at 
our place at meals. An exciting incident occurred 
Sunday morning. During the preceding night 
286 


BUD’S MASTERLY ADDRESS . 


the path of the vessel was enveloped by a heavy 
fog. When a few miles from the Irish coast the 
steamer struck the old Fastnet Rock Light-house. 
It was just as the day was dawning, and nearly 
all the passengers were in their staterooms. In- 
describable excitement, confusion, and alarm pre- 
vailed for a little while, for many supposed she 
would sink to the bottom of the sea; but in a 
marvelously short time the great engines were 
reversed, and the ship was off the rock and steam- 
ing into the mouth of the Irish Sea. When she 
was put on the docks for repair at Liverpool, it 
was found that an opening had been made in the 
hull twenty-four feet long and four feet wide. 
The modern construction of ocean steamers, by 
which the hull is divided into different compart- 
ments by strong bulkheads, saved us from a ter- 
rible catastrophe. 

“This is a wonderful city. Here the ‘ends 
of the earth’ literally come together. I can only 
mention some of the places visited. Greenwich 
Observatory; the Tower; Houses of Parliament, 
where I heard Gladstone; Westminster Abbey; 
British Museum ; London Bridge ; Trafalgar 
Square. It has been my pleasure to hear the 
celebrated preacher, Charles II. Spurgeon, and 
also the almost equally-celebrated Dr. Joseph 
Parker, of the Temple Church. 

“But, of course, what interests me most is the 
287 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


work among the poor, which 1 came abroad to 
study. I have had a delightful interview with 
Hugh Price Hughes, and heard from his own lips 
a most interesting report of the great movement 
at St. James Hall, of which he is the head, as- 
sisted by Mark Guy Pearse and others. Here is 
where General Booth began his wonderful work 
for the relief of the very lowest, and here are the 
headquarters of the Salvation Army. 

“From London I go to Paris, to look into the 
remarkable movement introduced by Mr. McAll, 
and that equally successful work carried on by 
Miss De Bruen. Thence to Home and other cities 
in Italy. Also Vienna and Berlin. Beturning 
then to England, I shall visit Birmingham, Man- 
chester, Liverpool, and other cities, where so much 
is being done for the improvement of the masses. 

“I can not describe to you, dear Jennie, the 
pleasure of what I see and hear. Everything is 
so new, and yet so old. But mixed with it all is 
a sense of regret, and that is that you are not with 
me to share my happiness. 

“How glad I am to know that you are doing 
so well in your studies ! It will only be a few 
months now until the day of your graduation will 
be at hand. I hope to be home by that time, 
and to be a happy witness of the interesting exer- 
cises. 

“It is a great satisfaction to me to hear that 

288 


BUD’S MASTERLY ADDRESS. 


your mother’s unfriendly feeling towards me is 
abating some. Next to pleasing you, my ‘good 
angel/ is my desire to please her. I sincerely 
hope and pray that when the time shall arrive 
for us to take up our lifework together, we may 
have her approval and benediction as well as your 
father’s. We are in the hands of Him who num- 
bers the hairs of our heads, and I am sure that 
in the end all will be right. London, care Bank 
of England, is my address. 

“Unfailingly yours, 

“George Buddington.” 


19 


289 


XXXV. 

DEDICATION OF THE PEOPLE’S TEMPLE. 

When the pastor of the new Church and his 
happy bride returned from their wedding-tour 
abroad, the main building for the promotion of 
the work in the “ Wicked Ward” had been com- 
pleted, and was ready for dedication. The occa- 
sion was one of much more than ordinary im- 
portance. The people had been looking forward 
to it with happy anticipation. It was their temple, 
erected for and devoted to their welfare. They 
had been saving their money for months, and 
supplying themselves with the best possible cloth- 
ing for the occasion. When the bells chimed the 
hour for assembling, the streets were thronged 
with the best-dressed people that had ever been 
seen in this ward. 

The day was propitious. The sky was flecked 
in the early morning with troops of fleecy clouds, 
survivals of the preceding night’s shower, hurry- 
ing into the distance, that the sun’s warm rays 
290 


DEDICATION OF PEOPLE’S TEMPLE. 


might not be obstructed. The air was mellow and 
slightly hazy. The leaves and flowers were clad 
in the richest hues of the first autumn days. The 
birds appeared to vie with each other as they 
warbled notes of joy. All nature seemed touched 
and stirred with sympathy for the occasion. When 
the hour had arrived for the service, over four 
thousand people were packed in the building. 
Nearly every denomination of the city was repre- 
sented. Several prominent laymen participated. 
Father Martini and the Unknown Man delivered 
addresses, the latter, as usual, confining himself 
exclusively to the use of Scriptural language. The 
singing was done chiefly by the choir composed 
of the newsboys. Mrs. Dr. Goodfellow also sang 
a beautiful solo. 

Everybody was delighted with the building. 
It was a large four-story brick structure, with an 
auditorium on the second floor that seated four 
thousand persons. A sweet chime of bells hung 
in the tower. The fourth story was fitted up and 
furnished for lodging. The third story was pro- 
vided with class and club rooms for instruction 
in various industries, suited to the people, and 
for the study of music, art, elocution, domestic 
291 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY 


economy, social science, sanitary conditions, and 
whatever else might he thought necessary for the 
improvement and happiness of the poorer classes. 
The first floor was occupied as a kindergarten and 
a creche, a nursery where mothers can leave their 
children while out at work during the day ; a free 
medical dispensary; a large room furnished with 
sewing-machines and other appliances, where sew- 
ing women and girls, working under the “sweat- 
shop” tyranny, can bring their fabrics and do their 
work in the midst of pure air and sunlight; a 
restaurant, where plain lunches are furnished at 
cost ; a reading-room and library ; and the offices of 
the building. The basement had in it two large 
natatoriums for the use, respectively, of women 
and girls, and men and boys; also a bowling- 
alley, gymnasium, storage-rooms, and neatly fur- 
nished toilet rooms. 

The assembly hall is to be used for religious 
meetings, lectures, concerts, dramatic and other 
entertainments, gatherings for the discussion of 
social, industrial, sanitary, and civic questions, and 
all other matters pertaining to the welfare of the 
common people. 

Over the front door of the main building, in 
292 


DEDICATION OF PEOPLE’S TEMPLE. 


large letters, is this inscription, which indicates 
its scope and purpose: 

people’s ®empU. 

CONSECRATED TO THE WORSHIP OF ALMIGHTY GOD. 

AND TO THE 

SERVICE OF MANKIND. 

In the Name, and According to the Teaching, of Jesus Christ.” 

There remain yet to be erected a Resident 
House for the superintendent and the workers, 
a Deaconess Home, a Hospital, and such other 
buildings as may be found necessary to the suc- 
cessful prosecution of the work. When these are 
completed, which will be within the next year, 
the grounds will be sodded and grassed, flower- 
beds laid out and cultivated, shade-trees set out, 
and a large fountain constructed. Thus it is pro- 
posed to bring within the reach of these people 
everything that will inspire, uplift, and in any 
way contribute to their happiness. The buildings 
and the grounds will always be an object-lesson. 

Mr. McCord and the five gentlemen associated 
with him will expend at least five hundred thou- 
sand dollars on the plant. An equal amount will 
be set apart as a reserve fund, the interest to 
293 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


be applied by the directors, from time to time, 
in repairing the buildings, extending the work, 
and supplementing the salaries of workers and 
teachers. The people are to be encouraged, also, 
to contribute toward the support of the move- 
ment. The property has been transferred to a 
Board of fifteen directors, incorporated under 
the laws of the State, to be held and used by 
them under carefully-defined legal restrictions. 
Nine of the directors are to be taken from as many 
different denominations of Christians, including 
the Roman Catholic, each being entitled to one ; 
three shall be prominent citizens of no Church, 
but well known for their interest in behalf of 
the poor; and three shall be taken from among 
the people of the ward where the institution is 
located, without any reference to religious affilia- 
tions. 

The following interview with Mrs. Beverly 
McCord, which was published in the city papers, 
will show how the work originated and the prin- 
ciples governing her in its prosecution up to date : 

Reporter. — “Will you state how you came to 
engage in this work ?” 

Mrs. McCord. — “By an address of my pastor, 
294 


DEDICATION OF PEOPLE’S TEMPLE . 


Dr. Goodfellow, delivered in a prayer-meeting, 
where he dwelt upon the words of the Master, 
‘When thou makest a dinner or a supper, call 
not thy friends, nor thy brethren, neither thy 
kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbors, lest they also bid 
thee again, and a recompense be made thee. But 
when thou makest a feast, call the poor, the 
maimed, the lame, the blind, and thou shalt be 
blessed, for they can not recompense thee, for 
thou shalt be recompensed at the resurrection of 
the just.” 

Q. — “What interpretation do you put upon 
these words as applied to the work you have been 
doing ?” 

A. — “Personal contact with the poor by the 
higher classes, and the improvement of their 
social, intellectual, and domestic condition, as a 
preparation for spiritual work among them. The 
Master first healed the body, then the soul.” 

Q. — “Do you believe this method will suc- 
ceed?” 

A. — “It is the only method that will perma- 
nently succeed, because it is the Divine method. 
In my work it has succeeded beyond my most 
sanguine expectations. A perfect transformation 
295 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


has taken place in the homes and characters of 
thousands of the poor people of that ward.” 

Q. — “How have you been supported in this 
work ?” 

A. — “I have supported myself. My husband 
and some of his friends have erected the build- 
ings, and made arrangements for the permanency 
of the work, so far as money will do it.” 

Q. — “Are the people to be treated entirely as 
objects of charity?” 

A. — “Hot at all. They are to be taught how 
to help themselves. They are expected to con- 
tribute to the support of the work. They are 
generally more liberal than people in better cir- 
cumstances.” 

Q. — “Are the missionaries to live among the 
people ?” 

A. — “There are no ‘missionaries.’ The work- 
ers are fellow-laborers with the people, and, as 
far as possible, will live among them, teaching 
them by example how to build the home and how 
to live.” 

Q. — “Do you feel satisfied with your work 
so far?” 

A. — “More than I can possibly express. It 

296 


DEDICATION OF PEOPLE’S TEMPLE. 


has been the happiest experience of my life. If 
I were to live a thousand years, I would spend 
them in this blessed work.” 

Q. — “Who will carry it on when you can no 
longer do active service?” 

A. — “The Master, who began the work and 
has directed me so far. He will raise up the 
workers and put them into the field.” 

Q. — “Is there anything more you would like 
to say to the public on this subject ?” 

A. — “Let rich men, who are making money 
by thousands and millions, devote a larger part 
of it to the intellectual, social, sanitary, domestic, 
and religious improvement of the poor in the 
great cities. This alone will solve the problem 
of the relation of the upper and lower classes, 
and of capital and labor ; this will save the cities, 
and the cities will save the country. What has 
been accomplished in the c Wicked Ward’ can be 
repeated anywhere under like conditions. There 
are fifty wealthy citizens in our country, whom 
I could name, who could, in a few years, make 
these desert-places of the great cities blossom like 
the rose. This will never be done by building 
colleges, public libraries, and art galleries. These 
297 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


have their place and do their work, but they do 
not reach the sore that festers and burns in the 
hearts and homes of the neglected poor. Few, 
if any, of their children will ever rise to the 
plane of the college, the library, or the art gal- 
lery. Vital questions must be solved, and ap- 
palling conditions must be relieved, before these 
higher walks can be reached. 

“What we need is more men like Lord Shaftes- 
bury and Mr. Peabody, the latter of whom, 
through the inspiration of the former, did so 
much to improve the tenement-houses of London 
and other cities. Lord Shaftesbury threw the 
power of his high social standing, together with 
his great wealth, into the work of helping the 
poor to help themselves, and has passed into his- 
tory as one of the most eminent philanthropists 
of his day, ranking with Bright, Cobden, Wilber- 
force, Phillips, Buskin, and Lincoln. Por more 
than forty years, when Parliament rose at mid- 
night and other members hurried to their homes, 
it was Shaftesbury who went into the streets of 
London, searching with lantern in hand, under 
the bridges spanning the Thames, for homeless 
men and women, conducting them to places of 
298 


DEDICATION OF PEOPLE'S TEMPLE . 


comfort, feeding and clothing them, and helping 
them to self-support. The London Times says 
eighty thousand poor people were aided by him. 

“Men of money must not wait for the Church 
to move. The Church is correct in theory, but 
weak in practice. Judged by its numbers, wealth, 
social and intellectual power, it is one of the most 
inefficient organizations on the earth. A business 
that yielded no larger returns from the capital 
invested would and ought to go into bankruptcy. 
That it is doing good, no well-informed person 
can deny. That it could, if it would, do a hundred- 
fold more, is equally evident. It needs the voice 
of a Luther to awaken it from its apathy and lead 
it into this new field. While rich men, many of 
them Christians, are girding the globe with rail- 
roads, steamships, and telegraphs; emptying the 
secret chambers of the earth of their riches ; rob- 
bing the forests of continents of their timber; 
consolidating the factories and mills of a Nation 
into one huge producing power; caging the wild 
forces of Niagara to drive the wheels of car, and 
factory, and shop, and plow, and reaper, and saw, 
and plane, — where are the men that are con- 
solidating their money to feed the hungry, clothe 
299 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


the naked, strengthen the weak, lift the fallen, 
help the helpless, increase the wages of the under- 
paid, shorten the hours of labor of the over- 
worked, improve the tenements of the poor, and 
give every man a fair chance in the race ? Where 
are they ? The failure to find answer to this ques- 
tion is the burning shame of the age ! Some day — 
and it may be sooner than we expect — the God 
of the poor will make requisition.” 

The reading of this interview, as published in 
the daily papers, produced a profound impression, 
and created unexpected interest in the work of 
Mrs. McCord. Several strong editorials also ap- 
peared heartily commending the reform, and 
tendering the support of the press. 


300 


XXXVI. 


DEATH OF THE UNKNOWN MAN. 

It was scarcely a month after the dedication 
of the People’s Temple when the first funeral 
service was held in the new building. The audi- 
torium was packed to its utmost capacity. It 
was the funeral of the Unknown Man. A few 
days after the dedication he was taken suddenly 
ill. He was removed to one of the rooms in the 
new building, where he had the most skillful 
medical attention and the tenderest nursing that 
could be secured. Dr. Goodfellow, Mrs. McCord, 
and other friends were with him nearly all the 
time. During his sickness he communicated to 
Dr. Goodfellow the secret of his mysterious life. 
He also placed in his hands a sealed envelope 
not to be opened until after his death. Among 
the numerous beautiful utterances of his last 
hours were these: 

“Bless the Lord, O my soul, and all that is 
within me, bless his holy name. I shall be satis- 
301 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


fied when I awake with thy likeness. He giveth 
his beloved sleep.” 

After an hour’s unconsciousness, he rallied, 
and opening his eyes upon the friends surround- 
ing him, repeated the twenty-third Psalm: 

“The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. 
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures ; he 
leadeth me by the still waters. He restoreth 
my soul ; he leadeth me in the paths of righteous- 
ness for his name’s sake. Yea, though I walk 
through the valley of the shadow of death, I will 
fear no evil; for thou art with me; thy rod and 
thy staff they comfort me. Thou preparest a table 
before me in the presence of mine enemies ; thou 
anointest my head with oil ; my cup runneth over. 
Surely goodness and mercy have followed me all 
the days of my life ; and I will dwell in the house 
of the Lord forever.” 

A sweet calm followed these beautiful words 
of Israel’s shepherd king. Ever and anon smiles 
of supreme satisfaction, like ripples on a lake, 
came and went, and his lips moved as if in con- 
verse with an invisible personality. Now his 
hands were raised as though he would clasp some 
one in loving embrace. He was heard to inquire 
302 


DEATH OF THE UNKNOWN. 


in a soft whisper: “Do n’t you hear? Do n’t you 
see ?” Several moments of quiet follow, when he 
rallies, and repeats these words of Paul, but in 
feeble voice: 

“I knew a man in Christ (whether in the body 
or out of the body, I can not tell ; God knoweth), 
caught up to the third heaven; and heard un- 
speakable words, which it is not lawful for a man 
to utter.” 

Then another brief space of quiet and rest, 
and the heavenly smiles reappeared, and the mo- 
tion of the lips was resumed. Finally, in clear, 
distinct words, he slowly said: “ Ah , Clarissa ; 
I’ve found you at last! I’m coming to you. 
Good-morning! So glad to see you!” 

These were his last words, and he was not, for 
God took him. Dr. Goodfellow conducted the 
funeral services, during which he gave the follow- 
ing explanation of the Unknown Man’s life: 
When about thirty, he was united to a beautiful 
wife, who was to him everything that could be 
desired as a companion. In less than one year, 
when she was called to tread the verge of the 
border-land in the mingled pain and joy of first 
motherhood, both child and mother passed to the 
303 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY. 


unseen life. The husband was crushed. For 
nearly a year he could do nothing. He went from 
church to church, hoping to hear something that 
would heal the wound and comfort his bleeding 
heart. Unfortunately, in many cases, the sermons 
were of a scientific or literary character, which 
brought him no relief. In others, the preacher 
so treated the Word of God that, when he closed, 
there did n’t seem to be much of the plain truth 
of Holy Scripture left. Being a man of inde- 
pendent means, he made a vow that he would 
devote his life to the simple reading, or recita- 
tion, upon all suitable occasions, of the plain word 
of Scripture, without note or comment, which he 
kept faithfully until his death. 

Dr. Goodfellow also opened the sealed en- 
velope, and found within it a will, disposing of 
fifty thousand dollars in money as follows: For 
the benefit of the newsboys of the city, $25,000; 
for the perpetual support of four visiting 
deaconesses, who are to read or recite selections 
from the Bible, without comment, in their visita- 
tions, $15,000; to George Buddington, known 
generally as Bud, the newsboy, $10,000. Mr. 
Beverly McCord was named as the executor. The 
304 


DEATH OF THE UNKNOWN. 


signature to the will was David Mathias. The 
witnesses were Beverly McCord and Sidney Pat- 
terson. 

The body of this remarkable man was laid 
away by the side of Jammie McFadden, to await 
the summons of the resurrection morning. Thus 
ended a most singular but a most useful life. 
Thousands will no doubt rise up on that day to 
call him blessed. 

It was thought that the time was now pro- 
pitious for a more direct effort for the spiritual 
good of the people. Therefore, a celebrated 
evangelist, whose methods in using the Bible were 
much like the Unknown Man’s, was engaged to 
conduct a series of gospel meetings. The response 
was remarkable. From the beginning to the close 
the great hall was crowded every night. The 
readiness of the people to accept the Man of 
Nazareth as their Savior was the cause of great 
rejoicing and wonder. They had been Scrip- 
turally prepared for this spiritual harvest. Dur- 
ing one month’s service over two thousand con- 
secrated their lives to the Master. The effect 
upon the ward was almost miraculous, while the 
entire city felt the inspiration of the great uplift. 
305 


20 


CHURCH OF THE NEW HUMANITY . 


Three years have passed. The buildings have 
all been finished ; the grounds nicely covered with 
grass; the shade-trees are growing; the flowers 
are blooming ; the fountain is flowing. The great 
plant has been in successful operation for three 
years, sending forth its benedictions to thousands. 
The work has so enlarged that Mrs. McCord must 
be relieved. A competent superintendent is 
needed. Who shall it be? The Master has had 
the man in preparation. He has been raised up 
from the midst of the people. He is young, 
thoroughly trained, eloquent, sympathetic, 
adapted, both by nature and education, to the 
field. After spending two years in a Bible train- 
ing-school, one year in the special study of social, 
industrial, economic, and political questions, and 
one year in the large cities of England and the 
Continent, investigating the various methods of 
work among the poor, he is again at home ready 
for service. His name is George Buddington , just 
returned, with his beautiful bride, Miss Jennie 
Patterson. A magnificent reception was extended 
to Mr. Buddington and his young wife when he 
assumed the superintendency of the most remark- 
able reformatory movement of the day. They 
306 


DEATH OF THE UNKNOWN . 


immediately occupied the fine apartments in the 
Resident House set apart for the superintendent 
and his family. “Did n’t I tell you, George,” said 
Jennie, “that when we were ready the house 
would be ready?” 


307 


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